


Coffee Café

by guiltipanda



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Attempt at Humor, Codependency, Drama, Emotional Baggage, Everyone is Bisexual, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Implied Sexual Content, Love Triangles, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Character Death, Non-Canonical Character Death, POV Romano (Hetalia), Past PruHun, Past SpaBel, Romance, Social Anxiety, Some Humor, Tsundere South Italy (Hetalia)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-06-05 07:15:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 68,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6694780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guiltipanda/pseuds/guiltipanda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a very bad thing to be attracted to someone that you were living and working in close quarters with. It was an even worse thing if that person was your best friend's old school friend. Oh, and add the fact that you're secretly sleeping with your best friend, and you have yourself an absolute clusterfuck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started this on FF.net, and I haven't updated it in a while, but I'm posting it here to kind of go through it again and get back into this story. 
> 
> I like both Spamano and Prumano. (I think it's pretty apparent which one I like more based on my other stories, which tells you a little how this is going to end, but anyway.) No one is going to be portrayed as the "bad guy" in this love triangle. Also, I'm just gonna tell you now that I suck at writing GerIta, cause I'm kind of indifferent to the pairing to be honest, so it's more of a background thing.
> 
> Chapters 4-7 were beta read by TheSupernova, and almost all of the other chapters were beta read by rachael-ly.
> 
> I call South Italy "Romano" in this story because when I started writing it I was super opposed to the name "Lovino" and didn't want to use it, although I've gotten over that since then.
> 
> Okay, now read and enjoy and, as ever, feedback is always appreciated.

The truth is, no one knows what they're doing. At all. Ever.

Romano used to think it was just him. He used to think he was the most severally underqualified person for the social excursions of life that ever walked the fucking earth. He later realized that he was a tad dramatic, and that he was just one out of 7.3 billion people on seven continents on a hundred trillion trillion-pound planet hurtling through space that felt that way. If there was someone in that 7.3 billion who knew exactly what the fuck they were doing in this world, he'd never met them. Then again, Romano didn't make a habit of meeting people.

No matter who they were, people left. Romano preferred to avoid the part where he believed that anyone was something other than a temporary drain.

As a child, Romano had lived with his grandpa. The absence of parents that he'd never really known wasn't so much of an emotional burden as it was just another reminder that something as central and important as family could also disappoint you. As loving as Grandpa had been, he'd often told Romano that he needed to act his age, and Romano had never been able to figure out what the hell that meant. He thought it had something to do with his cussing all the time, which could be excessive, but so fucking what? When he was a kid everyone told him that he wasn't allowed to use  _"adult language"_ , and now that he was an adult it was viewed as  _"juvenile"_. So, there was some window in between where it was actually appropriate to cuss and he'd just missed it? What-the-fuck-ever.

If you asked him, he was so much more adult than the two he had to live with it was a fucking miracle. His brother Feliciano was an idiot. He was also sometimes told to act his age, like when he was being an annoying crybaby—which was more often than Romano appreciated, but not often enough to bring him down to Romano's level of immaturity, apparently. Most of the time when Feliciano was acting childish it was  _"cute"_ , a word rarely used to describe anything Romano did. So, his brother got away with things that he couldn't. What a load of shit that was.

Antonio was just as much of an airhead as Romano's little brother. He was forgetful, unobservant, and, honestly, how had this guy even  _qualified_  to be their guardian? Not that it mattered anymore, since both brothers were now according to law  _"adults"_.

Yeah… _now_. Grandpa couldn't have waited just a little longer before he kicked the bucket? Then they would have never had to live with Antonio.

That wasn't to say that living with the guy was horrible. It wasn't. Antonio was a family friend, someone that the Vargas brothers had known for years before he became legally responsible for them, per their grandfather's request. He took good care of them. But if they had never lived with Antonio, then maybe…maybe Romano never would have…

Well, that's pure speculation. Also, he's getting ahead of himself.

However things might have played out differently, Romano and his little brother Feliciano lived with Antonio for the later part of their teen years, and they moved with him when he bought a new apartment above a little Spanish café located in the historical downtown area of a small and insignificant city. Spring turned to summer, then fall, and then winter, and then the year was over. And then it happened again. And again. And before Romano knew it, he was twenty-two, and he didn't feel much different from when he was nineteen and he'd dropped out of school, head cluttered full of thoughts that even time couldn't erase.

Three years. Some of the best years of his life, according to every adult person who had ever remarked on how young he was and how much he had ahead of him. And he still felt the same.

He woke up at 4:30 am six days a week to go downstairs to the café that Antonio now owned and offer what help he could (mostly in the food preparing area, because Romano didn't  _do_  people—that's what Antonio was there for). Feliciano went to school most mornings, so he could only take the occasional shift. And like that, everything was basically normal.

Well, no, that's actually a lie, but getting to that in a minute.

Two important things coincidentally occurred within mere days of each other, and they turned Romano's not-normal-but-he's-kind-of-gotten-used-to-it-so-he'll-say-normal life on its head. First off: Antonio's father died.

Romano woke up at his normal time and shuffled out to the front of the apartment. Feliciano was sitting with his legs crossed at the dining table, an art history textbook in his lap and a mug of coffee in his hand. He was still in his boxers, his eyes squinting to read what was in front of him.

"What are you doing up so early?" Romano grumbled, still half-awake himself.

"I couldn't study last night for my test, so I just went to bed. Now I'm up early." He sipped his coffee, which Romano could feel radiating warmth and vanilla-y sweetness even from across the kitchenette area.

Romano poured himself a cup and huddled up on the couch, holding his coffee close to his chest. Unfortunately, today was not Sunday, so he would have to go downstairs soon to begin prepping before they opened shop. He put his lips to the edge of his porcelain mug, not drinking, simply feeling the steam mist against his face. It was relaxing like so few things were.

In the background of the quiet apartment, the sounds of indistinct movement told him that Antonio was awake and getting ready to go to work as well. It was just the two of them on days that Feliciano had school, but the café was small and relaxed enough so that it was never more than they could manage on their own. He would never say a thing, but he was a little more eager for the days when Feli was preoccupied with school.

Antonio may have been all the negative things that Romano said he was, but he was also the most interesting person that Romano had ever met. He seemed perfectly incapable of having doubts about himself or others. He smiled constantly, this real big smile that made his eyes crinkle around the edges. He was too celestial to be real. But when he stepped out into the living room that morning, Romano instantly sensed that something was off. He was scratching the back of his head with a dreadful look that was all too familiar, and yet terribly out of place.

"We're all up at the same time for once," he said. "That's good."

Feli looked up in a silent question.

"My aunt called just now. She told me that my dad is dead."

That was how he broke the news. The idiot made the announcement into an offhanded remark first thing in the morning. Feliciano looked ready to burst into tears.

"Oh Antonio, that's horrible! Are you okay?" He shoved his textbook aside and jumped out of his chair to go to Antonio and throw his arms around him.

Romano cast a glare at his brother. Damn him. Being all compassionate and shit. He was able to say and do things like that all the time. "I'm so sorry!" and "Do you need a hug?" and crap like that. Like it was easy.

That was a stupid question, anyway. Of course Antonio wasn't okay. He was  _smiling_. When you've just found out that  _the man you owe your very existence to has died_ you don't generally have much of an inclination to turn up a grin. Romano should know. Feliciano should know, too. When Romano looked closer, he realized it wasn't the same carefree expression he was used to seeing. It was strained, faltering slightly.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me," he said.

"What happened?" Feli asked.

"Heart attack. No one even saw it coming."

"I'm so sorry."

Romano fidgeted, struggling to think of something to say. Nothing that was helpful came to mind.

"How's your family doing?"

"They're still at the hospital. I don't think they really know what to do right now."

"I can imagine," Feliciano said. "Do you know when the service is going to be?"

"They don't have anything set yet. They're waiting for me to figure out when I can fly over there."

"Do you want us to come with you?" Feli gave Romano a look like he expected him to jump into the conversation. Romano froze like a helpless, stupid animal awaiting the impact of an oncoming car.

"No, you don't have to come," he said pleasantly.

"Do you want us to look after the café while you're gone?"

"No, that's okay." His smile widened. "I just wanted you to know because I'm going to have to go over there to handle the funeral and the estate. I'm the next of kin, so everyone is looking to me."

"Estate?" Feliciano asked excitedly.

"I told you about it, didn't I? My family owns a vineyard in Murcia."

"Wait. So, what?" Romano demanded. "You're gonna go to  _Spain_?"

"Not at least for another week," Antonio said. As if that was supposed to be reassuring.

Romano tried his damnedest to clearly communicate the fact that he was sulking. He maintained a nasty scowl, with arms crossed and eyes downcast. When addressed, he replied in the most obnoxious tone he could muster. It didn't seem to come across. Admittedly, he used these signals a lot and for various purposes, so maybe he should come up with a new tactic or something. In the end, it only reminded him of a problem that he and Antonio had with communication. Romano had a difficult time being honest, and Antonio was incapable of picking up on his hints. That's all he could focus on after that point, and so a perfectly fine morning ended up being a pretty shitty day.

Oh, but things got worse.

Working in Antonio's café was alright, Romano considered, as far as employment goes. He'd grown complacent there. He liked not having to go to school and instead stick with an easy job that, while not the best in terms of wages, allowed him to spend a lot of time with Antonio.

The one complaint he could make about his job was that Antonio got a weird kick out of teasing him and ordering him around. He would coo Romano's nickname every time he came into the kitchen, pinch his sides, or sneak up on him and scare him when his back was turned. He tried to sound commanding and authoritative as he declared every single order, and then he would giggle at himself for even attempting something so ridiculously out of character. When Romano went through the single traffic door to the front of the café and passed an order off to him, he would always try to make him stay and clean something for him.

Even today, just a few days after learning that his dad had died from a heart attack, it was the same. He shouted at Romano through the service window to tell him that he needed a mocha, and he laughed. And then when Romano came out to hand it to him, he instructed him to wipe the countertop by the register.

"That's not my job," Romano said defiantly.

"I'm your boss. Your job is what I say it is."

"You hired me as a chef slash barista. Unless you can eat or drink it, it isn't what you pay me for."

"Well, for the next couple of minutes or so, I'm paying you to clean the counter."

"It's right in front of you. You're not doing anything. Clean it yourself."

Feli had just gotten home from school and was sitting on one of the barstools, watching with a whimsical smile as Antonio tried to force a towel into Romano's hand to get him to do as he said. "You two are good together."

Romano's mind locked on the word " _together_ ". He shot Feli a glare. "What the hell does that mean?"

"I like you two together. You're cute."

"That is the stupidest thing to have ever come out of your mouth," he said at the same time that Antonio sang a cheerful, "Thank you!"

Romano met Antonio's smile with a blank stare. "What is wrong with you?"

"Feli said I'm cute. I thanked him for the compliment," he said innocently.

"He said  _we're_  cute, which is something entirely different."

He laughed. "Well, you're cute too."

" _Shut up_!"

"Right. Sorry." He pinched Romano's burning cheek. " _Not_  cute."

Romano swatted the hand away, and Antonio turned around and proceeded to wipe the countertop.

He was so stupid. Always acting unbothered and saying whatever popped into his head like it meant nothing.

It was getting to be late afternoon, which meant there weren't many customers inside the café and Romano could go on break. He went upstairs to scrounge for something to eat and stopped in front of the fridge just as the relic of a telephone mounted on the kitchen wall rang. Antonio and Feliciano were still downstairs. No one else was going to answer. Romano thought about ignoring it. Most of the time, he did. Then again, most of the time, the landline phone didn't ring.

He finally did answer, only to be made half-deaf by the voice on the other end shrieking, "ANTONIOO!"

Romano winced and jerked away from the receiver. The voice began to ramble till he spoke over it, saying, "This isn't Antonio, what do you want?"

"Oh, sorry!" the voice said with a laugh. "Wrong number!"

The line went quiet and Romano placed the headset on the hook. Immediately, the phone rang again. He groaned loudly before picking it up, making sure not to hold it too close to his ear.

"ANTONIOOOOOOO!"

"What the hell do you  _want_?"

"Oh, hold on—"

"I swear to god, if you—"

He was close to hanging up on whoever this guy was, but Antonio's voice called from the bottom of the staircase and asked, "Roma? Who are you talking to?"

Romano turned away from the receiver. "This idiot called. He keeps yelling for you, for some fucking reason."

The voice from the phone laughed.

"This has got to be Roma, the grumpy Italian with the filthy language and cute pouty face."

Romano sputtered.

" _Roma?_ Grump—I don't— _cute pouty face?_ " He wasn't sure what part of that sentence pissed him off more. The biggest issue of all, though, was that he still had no idea who he was even talking to.

Antonio came upstairs to take the phone. Romano stomped away and slumped down on the couch, pretending not to listen to the conversation.

He knew the caller well, it seemed, as he began talking excitedly, about how they were doing, about good times and memories. He assured the person he referred to as Gilbert that Romano and Feliciano were both fine (Romano quietly resented that Antonio was talking about him to a stranger) and that the café was doing well. He asked about someone named Ludwig, another person named Francis, and Elizabeth... _who the hell were all these people?_ Why had Romano never heard about them before?

The atmosphere grew considerably heavier when Antonio brought up his father. How he wished he'd called him a little more often. He mentioned having to travel to Spain in a few days. And after that, the conversation shifted to further talk about things Romano had no knowledge of, and he started to lose interest.

He jumped in his seat when Antonio began shouting into the phone.

"Are you really? When? Mhm? That's great!" Romano stared openly, trying to figure out the half of the conversation he couldn't hear. What was Antonio getting so happy about? "That'll be the day before I leave! So, I can spend a little time with you, and—"

What? Hold on a minute.  _No!_

"And you can meet Romano and Feliciano, and—"

_Nonononono!_

"You're welcome to stay here as long as you want! You could even keep an eye on those two for me, that would be—"

_GODDAMMIT!_

Feliciano came carrying his backpack up to the apartment soon after the call finished, just in time to hear the news.

"Yay! Antonio's friends are coming to visit!" he said happily.

"Keep your _'yay'_ , stupid." Romano turned an angry glare to Antonio. "Have you even thought about where they're going to stay?" Their apartment was a decent size with three bedrooms, but it wasn't overly spacious. Five people could get cramped in there very easily, and Romano liked his space.

"Well," Antonio said with that ridiculous smile of his, "while I'm gone, two people will be able to have a bed to themselves, and the other two will have to share a bed. You can work that out among yourselves. And for the night that I'm still here, Gilbert and Ludwig can take Romano's room and Romano can share my bed."

Romano's jaw fell open and he turned a deep shade of red. He couldn't believe Antonio had just said that in front of Feliciano. What the hell did he think that sounded like? From the two oblivious faces looking back at him, Romano gathered that he was the only one to read into the proposal. He should have expected such from Feliciano, but Antonio? No. Romano knew better. There was an intention behind Antonio's seemingly innocent suggestion. Well, Romano wasn't going to have it! Not with strangers in the house.

"Fuck that. No one is sleeping in my room except for me."

Antonio made a pout that Romano staunchly resisted.

"I wouldn't mind giving up my bed, Antonio," Feliciano said.

"It's okay," he said. "We can talk more about sleeping arrangements once they get here."

"How long are they going to be staying?"

"Only until they can find their own apartment."

" _What_?" Romano squawked. "They're  _moving_  here? Like, to the area? Like,  _near_   _us_?"

"Yeah! Didn't I already say that?"

"No, you failed to mention that crucial bit of information!" Perfect. Not only would he have to put up with these people while they stayed at their apartment, but even when they were gone they'd just keep showing up again. Whenever the hell they felt like it! The bastards. Romano already disliked them. "Why the hell are they moving here?"

A flash of realization, then an embarrassed grin. Antonio claimed that he had been too excited and hadn't thought to ask.

 

* * *

 

"Roma?" Antonio whispered. "Are you awake?"

He was lying with his back to the door, so he only listened to the sound of his bedroom door shutting with a final click and Antonio's soft footfalls reaching the edge of the bed. "I am now," he said sullenly.

"Are you angry with me?"

_Yes, idiot._  "No."

"Why?"

Why was he angry? Or, why was he  _not_  angry? Jesus, if Romano wasn't such a goddamn liar. He ignored the question. "I'm tired."

The edge of the mattress gave under Antonio's weight as he sat down. He put a hand on Romano's shoulder. "I only have a few days before I leave for Spain."

"And?"

"And, I don't want you to be angry when I leave. What do you want me to do?"

_Don't go. Don't leave me with no one to talk to. Don't leave me with people I don't know, because you_   _know I can barely handle even basic human interaction with people I'm familiar with. Let someone else deal with the funeral. Let the government take the estate, just..._ "Do whatever you want. I don't care."

He sighed. "Roma..."

_"Roma"_ was a nickname that Romano loathed, except where Antonio was concerned. He used to hit his brother for calling him that. The first few times Antonio had referred to him by that name he'd hit him too. Romano didn't remember when he stopped minding it so much.

"I'm sorry."

Romano felt his stomach twist with guilt. Why was he making Antonio apologize for something beyond his control? He'd just found out his  _father_ had  _died_ , and Romano still hadn't said anything about it. He looked up at the face of the man who'd taken care of him and his brother for the past six years, his best friend, and his worst secret.

"Don't apologize...um...just... _I'm_  sorry. I'm sorry about your dad."

Romano's heart swelled to see Antonio's face brighten and his smile return.

It began without warning, because that's how it always went. Antonio lied down next to him and kissed him, and then he kissed back. This wasn't something they had planned, but this had been going on for some time now. Antonio wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close so that Romano was flush against his chest and their legs tangled together.

Romano wasn't too worried about Feli hearing them. The apartment was well-built, brick, and over two months had passed without his brother giving any sign that he knew what they did behind closed doors. Still, a part of Romano felt paranoid and he struggled to keep the noise to a minimum.

Feliciano could never know. This was far too embarrassing. It was fucking weird. Antonio had known them since they were kids, he'd been their legal guardian, and on top of that they weren't dating. They were close friends who were very much attracted to one another. Anything further than that had never been fully discussed.

These weren't the kind of things that Romano dwelt on when Antonio was melting his cold exterior with the heat of his body and making Romano want to show him just how affectionate he could really be, but when he had a little more clarity and a lot more self-control, it did bother him. When they were alone in the dark and it was only about grasping and touching and hearing the noises that tremulously escaped the other's mouth, Romano really couldn't care less. He knew he was as much to blame for this mess as anyone. He could have said that he didn't want this, but he would have been lying if he had.

Something was escaping Romano—besides his breath and sweat, besides Antonio's name which, along with rhetorical cries to a deity was continuously on his lips. There was something that he sensed he was losing, and he wasn't sure if he was supposed to be feeling this way with someone he cared about.

He clung to the bed sheets until the two of them fell into blissful exhaustion, and then he didn't think he was losing something anymore. He felt more like he himself was lost, and he still wasn't sure that that was supposed to happen.


	2. Chapter 2

Romano couldn't stand being in the apartment that morning, being constantly reminded of what today was, so he went walking. He liked taking walks by himself sometimes. There was this quiet little park not too far from the café with a path that women liked to jog and walk their dogs on. Romano wasn't a fan of the dogs, but he was a fan of the women. He would walk along the track or sit by the pond there, they'd jog by, and he'd smile at them—only smile. Most of them, he realized, were very focused on their routine and didn't like him to interrupt them. That was okay. He didn't go to the park to chat up women, he went there to be by himself and think. Sometimes, though, when his thoughts became too depressing, he wished he could think less.

This was the day that Antonio's friends would arrive. The last day before Antonio left for Spain. It still upset Romano, and he felt pathetic for letting it affect him so badly, but he didn't know what to do about it. Going to the park didn't solve anything. It didn't fix the problem, it didn't make him feel better. It was kind of a stupid idea, but it was the only one that he had.

He was running like a coward. Maybe. Probably. Antonio was wondering where he was. Certainly. Was he worried? Well, Antonio worried about him all the time anyway, he couldn't control that.

Antonio didn't have to worry about him. Just because Romano defied all constructs of what someone his age should be didn't mean anything. Just because he didn't like going out socializing and having relationships, wasn't going to school and figuring out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life, and only had a job because Antonio couldn't stand him sitting around the apartment all day long, it didn't mean that he would never get his life together and eventually become at least a semi-normal adult.

Maybe. Probably.

Romano wasted much of that morning just sitting by that muddy little pond, smiling at the women, and watching these stupid ducks fight, or mate, or whatever the hell they were doing. The sun was already high in the sky and beating down on him before he started to walk back home. He made his way slowly, fighting every step, but moving forward nevertheless. He wanted to spend time with Antonio before he left. He  _didn't_  want to have anything to do with the people who were going to be staying with them. He didn't have a choice and should just suck it up. He  _really_  didn't want to.

Shit, they were already there. Romano was right outside the café and he could see the four of them—Antonio, Feliciano, and Antonio's two friends—sitting inside by the window. He couldn't just walk in the front. They would stop him, and they'd introduce him, and they'd expect him to sit with them and be civil. Fuck that. Romano would just have to go in through the back and sneak up the stairs to the apartment. He was about to do that, he was just inside the alley when he heard the door open with the tinkling of a bell. He threw himself against the brick wall to avoid being seen, but all he managed to do was get a very strange look from his brother.

"Fratello, you're back!" Feliciano waved for him to come inside. "Antonio's friends are here! You should come and meet them."

"Go inside, Feli. I'm going around back to get to my room."

Feliciano frowned. "Don't be rude, Romano. I know you don't like to meet people, but you can't avoid them while they're living with us. Wouldn't it be better to just get it over with?"

He already knew that, dammit. He wished Feliciano would stop fucking using logic against him. "I don't want to meet them. I have nothing to say to them." He may not be able to stay away from them forever, but he would sure as hell try his best.

"We're all going to go out to eat for lunch! Don't you want to come?" His brother gave him a knowing look, because Romano could always go for good food.

"I'm not hungry," he lied. His voice betrayed him, sounding sad at the thought of what he'd be missing.

"Don't be so worried, they're really cool. Gilbert is nice and fun to talk to. His brother Ludwig is more quiet than he is, but he seems nice too." Romano scoffed. Feliciano thought everyone was nice, because everyone  _was_  nice to  _him_. His approval didn't mean anything. "Come on!" Feliciano said, latching on to Romano's arm and straining to pull him towards the door.

"Let go!"

"Antonio really wants them to meet you!"

" _Let. Go!_ "

"They're German, and their accents sound really funny!"

"I don't fucking care! LEMME GO!" Their strengths were close to equal, but it was easier for Romano to pull his arm away than it was for Feliciano to drag him inside and he was able to get loose. They both stumbled backwards, Romano nearly tumbling to the ground, but he caught himself and stood up to glare at his brother. "If I say I don't want to do something, don't try to force me to do it! You're not being helpful, you're just being annoying." Romano felt slightly guilty when Feliciano looked sincerely hurt by his words, but he had to get him to leave him alone somehow.

"Okay, Fratello. You don't have to do anything." He slowly shuffled back to the front of the shop. "I just hope you don't feel like you have to lock yourself in your room the entire time they're here."

And what if he did? Why the fuck should anyone else care? Why couldn't Romano do what he wanted without everyone acting like something was wrong with him? Nothing was wrong with him. Not one goddamn thing.

Romano watched Feliciano slink around the corner and disappear. He waited until he heard the door open with a jingle and then close before he went on down the alley. He crept softly passed the ivy-covered brick to the faded pink door at the back of the café. Thankfully, there was no reason for this door to have a fucking bell to announce his entry, but it wasn't completely silent either. It creaked, as much as Romano tried to be quiet. The others already knew he was there, thanks to his stupid brother, but as long as they didn't hear him they probably wouldn't call out to him.

Inside, the staircase that went up to the apartment was just to his right. The door to the kitchen was on the left, and down the center was a hallway that led to the dining area. Romano couldn't see anyone, but he could hear them all laughing and talking out there. He slid along the wall, passing the staircase. He hadn't gotten a good look at Antonio's friends through the café window, so before he went up and hid in his room he wanted to at least get an idea of who they were. It was still difficult to see as he peered around the wall, since his main concern was remaining unnoticed, but they were in view and Romano proceeded to analyze them with the utmost contempt.

They were both extremely white, even for Germans—that was the first thing he noticed. The one sitting next to Antonio was especially so, with his platinum blond hair and pasty complexion. He also looked like a middle school punk despite clearly being in his mid-twenties, what with those tattered jeans and that oversized hoodie. His burly brother wasn't as bad by comparison, he at least could dress decently, but he sort of just sat there stiffly. It was kind of funny, seeing him juxtaposed with such relaxed and amiable company and trying to fit in. What Romano didn't like was the way Feliciano was playfully nudging and smiling at the guy, so he decided to start sneaking away to his room. Feliciano's displays of affection tended to go from embarrassing to nauseating rather quickly.

Something that his brother said was apparently very funny, because Antonio and the punk burst out laughing, and Romano was drawn back. He saw the blond bastard throw his arms around his little brother and nuzzle up against him. He was going on and on about how cute he was, and— _Jesus Christ!_ —Romano couldn't stop himself from cringing at the sight and crying, "Get your fucking hands off my brother, you pervert!"

The four at the table all turned in surprise and Romano ducked behind the wall out of sight.

"Roma!" he heard Antonio call. He soon appeared beside him and put a hand on his shoulder, and just like that Romano found himself being guided out into the dining area. "Gilbert, Ludwig, this is Romano," Antonio said, smiling proudly. Romano tried to think of a way to get to his room, or maybe the bathroom, or actually anywhere else.

 _Just don't blurt out anything stupid._ "I need to piss in my room."  _WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?_ "I mean, that's not what—I need to go to the bathroom—not in my room, I—"  _Oh, for the love of all that is holy, just kill yourself and save what's left of your dignity._ "Fuck you guys, I'm leaving."

Romano turned to run, but Antonio kept a firm grip on him. Unlike Feliciano, he was stronger than Romano and could hold him still. Romano could feel the heat in his cheeks steadily rising. No one was laughing at him, which made it worse. He could deal with being laughed at, just yell and cuss some more and storm off. He didn't know how to handle pity, so he just felt awkward.

"I'm Ludwig. Nice to meet you," said the big, beefy brother in the most obliged way. Which made the other one, the punkish one who was currently beaming at Romano so enthusiastically, Gilbert. What the hell was with that look, anyway? Well, maybe someone had been amused by Romano's weird outburst.

Now that the five of them had all gathered, they were ready to go eat. At Antonio's recommendation, they went to an Italian restaurant called Quattro, which was really the only good Italian restaurant that Romano knew of in the area. They were seated at a corner, semi-circle booth and Antonio, being in front of the lot, sat first. Romano, almost instinctively, moved to sit beside him, but Gilbert cut him off and wiggled his way into the booth next to Antonio. Then Feliciano was about to sit, but Romano was feeling bitter now and determined to protect his innocent baby brother from the despicable older Kraut bastard. So, he inadvertently ended up sandwiched between the two Germans.

Before long Romano began to feel like he was disappearing. Not only were the two on either side of him much bigger than he was, making him feel minuscule by comparison, but he realized that he was the disposable fifth wheel. On his left were two old friends catching up, and on his right Feliciano and Ludwig were starting to hit it off. Or, at least, Feliciano wasn't giving up any time soon. Romano slouched in his seat and glared at his hands in his lap.

During lunch, Antonio mentioned how he was relieved that Gilbert and Ludwig were out of their old place and moving forward in their lives. "And I'm so happy that you'll be here with Feliciano and Romano while I'm gone," he said as an addendum.

"Hey, why do they need a babysitter, anyway?" Gilbert asked. "They're plenty old enough to take care of themselves."

Antonio laughed. "You're not babysitting. You'll just be around. I've never really been away, so knowing that you two will be there, just in case, makes me more at ease."

Romano could read between the lines well enough, especially when it came to Antonio. He didn't trust Romano to take care of the house, the café, and his brother all by himself. Antonio didn't think he was mature or responsible enough. Romano sank further into the booth and ignored the rest of their conversation.

Antonio excused himself to the bathroom while they were still waiting for their food and Romano immediately tensed. Feliciano and Ludwig continued talking and hardly even noticed that Antonio was gone, but now Gilbert's eyes wandered around the restaurant like he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Romano subtly turned his body away, hoping it would indicate exactly what he was thinking.  _You shouldn't feel the need to talk to me just because Antonio isn't here right now._

It got so quiet, even with Feliciano still blabbering on. Romano decided to steal a quick glance up to the left and— _dammit_ —Gilbert was watching him. He was smiling and looking exactly like he wanted to say something. Romano adverted his gaze. He was so low in his seat that he was practically underneath the table at this point, and suddenly Gilbert dropped down to his level. He crossed his arms over his chest and adjusted himself comfortably, his elbow prodding. "How are you doing, Romano?"

At least he wasn't calling him fucking Roma. "Fine."

When it was just Romano slumped down it had been a sign of his discontent, but now that they were both down there it just looked strange. Like they were hiding together, giggling and whispering with the intimacy of six-year-olds. Romano sprang up.

"Oh, are we sitting up now? Okay," Gilbert said, following suit.

Romano shot him a nasty look. "What the fuck is with you?"

"I'm just waiting to see if you'll ever smile."

The glint in his wine-colored eyes was urging, expectant.

There were few things that Romano hated more than being told to smile. One thing that came close was people touching his face. In one afternoon, Gilbert did both. He screwed his bony little finger into Romano's cheek trying to make him crack, to get some kind of reaction. A fierce jab to his rib cage and the number one spot on Romano's shit list was what he got. Antonio returned a few minutes later to find Gilbert dramatically sprawled out on the seat cushions, whining about being mortally wounded. Romano was scolded, and all in all the day just served to remind him why he didn't have more friends.

The sleeping arrangements for the first night ended up being exactly what Romano had suspected they would be. Antonio asked Romano again if he would give up his bed. Romano refused. Antonio took things into his own hands. Feliciano kept his room, and the guests were put up in the main bedroom. Antonio said that he would take the couch—that fucking liar. After the lights had all been shut off and everyone had gone to bed, Antonio slipped into Romano's room. Romano told him plainly that they were not going to do anything while the German bastards were right across the hall. Antonio smiled. "I just wanted to spend more time with you."

"Well, I, um, I guess that's fine." No, Romano hadn't been waiting for those words and, no, he wasn't blushing.

Romano never told Antonio how much he liked moments like this, where they just lied closely beside one another, their fingers shyly brushing against clothing and skin, their eyes meeting from the top of pillows. Just talking. He hoped that Antonio knew.

"So, did you ever finish packing?"

"Yup! I'm all prepared for tomorrow."

"Did you want me to drive you to the airport?" Romano asked hopefully.

"Oh, I think Gilbert said something about him driving me."

Fuck that guy. "I'll drive you."

Antonio laughed. "Whoever drives, you can both come!" Romano gave a noncommittal grunt. "I hope you all get along while I'm gone. Feli seems to be getting along with them."

A little too well for Romano's liking. He'd have to keep an eye on him.

"You'll try to get along with them, right, Roma?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever." For Antonio's sake, he'd try. "Did you ever find out why they decided to move here?"

"You're really curious about that, huh?"

Well, it was weird. Who just decides to get up and move to a new city all of a sudden? Without even having found a place to live?

"Hm," Antonio hummed between pursed lips. "I did find out about it, but…maybe you should ask Gil instead of me."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure how much he'd want me to tell you. Plus, it will give you guys something to talk about! And then you'll become friends!" Antonio flashed that ridiculous smile of his.

"You don't magically become friends with someone after one conversation. Especially about something so stupid." Maybe if you were Antonio or Feli you could, but not if you were Romano.

"Gil's nice," Antonio insisted. "I'm sure you two can be friends if you can open up to him a little. Ludwig too."

Romano didn't respond. This subject was getting boring, and he was growing sleepy. He rolled onto his side and curled up against Antonio's arm. It would be a whole week before they'd be like this again. He wanted Antonio to know that he was going to miss him, but he didn't say it.

Antonio rested his head against Romano's with a sigh. "I love you, Roma."

It wasn't the first time he'd said those words. Romano was never sure what to think of them or how to respond. Antonio never appeared bothered when Romano couldn't bring himself to say it back, and so Romano didn't force it. He was afraid of what it meant, that it might mean nothing. So, he didn't do anything and just let Antonio keep saying it.


	3. Chapter 3

Morning came before Romano was ready for it. Antonio had been awake for a couple of hours by the time Romano finally forced himself to get out of his room, because Antonio was one of those crazy people who never hits the snooze button and greets the sunrise exuberantly. (Even after years of living with him, Romano could never quite wrap his mind around that.) As Romano stepped out into the hallway he heard the door to Feli's room open behind him, which was odd, since Feli should have already been at school. But it wasn't Feli coming out, Romano found. It was, of all fucking people, Ludwig Beilschmidt.

The two of them froze and stared at each other. Romano's jaw dropped. "What the fuck?"

"Good morning," Ludwig replied, looking rather flushed.

It was early, Romano's brain wasn't functioning at full capacity yet as he tried to process the situation, so his only complete thought was, again, " _What the fuck_?!"

"...You're probably wondering what I was doing in your brother's room." Ludwig was being very calm and straightforward to appease Romano's outrage. Romano should have told him not to bother. "Well, my brother kicked me out of the main bedroom, and I was going to sleep on the couch since it looked like Antonio had changed his mind about taking it, but then your brother found me and offered—"

Romano had heard enough. He marched straight towards Antonio's room and burst through the door. He found the older brother just getting out of bed, not very happy that Romano had barged in on him. Ludwig was right behind Romano, still trying to calm him down. Gilbert was shouting now, wanting to know what the hell was going on. Romano clenched his fists at his sides and got right in his face. "Your brother slept with my brother!"

Gilbert paused, partly shocked, but mostly confused. After considering what Romano had just told him, he chuckled. "Congratulations, you lucky bastard," he told his brother with a lewd grin.

Romano turned a deep red. "That's not what I meant!"

Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "Then what's the issue?"

" _'What's the issue?'_ "

"Well, if they didn't have sex!" Gilbert jutted his chin towards his younger brother. "You  _didn't_  have sex his brother, right?"

"Er, no." Ludwig hid his face in his hand, probably regretting waking up that morning.

"Well alright, then."

"That's not the fucking point!" Romano yelled.

Gilbert was getting annoyed. "What  _is_  the point?"

Romano stopped short. He wasn't sure what the point was, except that he was angry and Gilbert was responsible. If Feliciano had been there, he probably wouldn't have understood why Romano was going on about this either.

"We didn't even sleep in the same room," Ludwig clarified as soon as he had a chance to speak above the arguing. "Feliciano took the couch."

So, he really was making a big deal about nothing. Feliciano had only been hospitable. Now, embarrassed on top of feeling like his life was being thoughtlessly infiltrated by strangers, Romano's anger continued to boil without an outlet.

"Do you know how uncomfortable it is to sleep in the same bed with that guy?" Gilbert defended, though Romano had already lost the argument. "Look at him! He's like a moose! Those muscles aren't made of pillows!"

All this yelling so early in the morning was giving Romano a headache. He left the German-infested room and retreated into his own where he wasted no time in getting dressed and ready. Afterwards, he found Antonio in the kitchen preparing breakfast. Romano snatched the car keys off the counter. "Are you all set, Antonio? Let's go." Antonio looked up in surprise, about to say something, but Gilbert entered the room and beat him to it.

"I told Antonio that I wanted to drive him." He crossed his arms across his chest and frowned at Romano. "I don't care if you come, but don't try to run off without me."

"It doesn't take two people to drive to the airport," Romano shot back. "I can take him myself."

Gilbert hardened his stare. "I don't know what your problem is, but I'm going, and you can't stop me."

The argument was about to get more heated. They both started to raise their voices at each other, but they were interrupted by the clatter of a knife hitting the counter and an exhausted groan. Romano hadn't noticed until that moment how drained Antonio looked that morning. He stared off into nothing, his expression so somber that it pained Romano to look at it. "Can you two  _please_  not do this?" he sighed, hunching over and supporting his weight on the counter top. "At least wait until I'm gone..."

Romano and Gilbert shared a look, and Romano knew that they were thinking the same thing. This wasn't fair to Antonio, not with everything that he was going through. So, as much as they detested one another in that moment, they silently agreed to ride in a car together for the entire thirty minutes it took to drive to the airport without killing each other. They took Antonio's car, because Gilbert's was still filled with boxes that he had yet to unload and had no room for Antonio's luggage, but Gilbert still drove because he was adamant that he couldn't let anyone drive him, he  _had_  to be behind the wheel. Which, if you asked Romano, was stupid. He found it much more relaxing to watch the world pass him by without having to worry about violating traffic laws and avoiding the assholes of the road. So, he happily let Gilbert deal with it.

Antonio road in the front passenger seat, and when Romano wasn't staring out the window he was watching his friend's reflection in the side view mirror. It was pointless to ask if Antonio was okay. Of course he wasn't. Romano just wished he could do something that would make him smile like he normally did, at least for a little bit.

The passenger drop-off area was crowded with cars when they pulled up. Gilbert muttered some frustrated curses as he tried to weave his way through to the proper airline. Uniformed officials were walking up and down the block preventing people from parking beside the building for too long. Romano knew that they would be telling them to leave as soon as Antonio got out with his luggage. He hardly waited for Gilbert to completely stop before he jumped out, grabbing Antonio's bags out of the seat beside him. He opened the passenger side door and pulled Antonio out.

"You," Romano said to Gilbert, "circle around. I'll be right back."

" _What_?!" Gilbert shouted, but Romano ignored him. Antonio was forced to follow. Romano only looked back briefly to see Gilbert try to come after them before an officer started berating him for trying to leave his car in the drop-off area.

"Romano?" Antonio asked, not pulling his hand out of Romano's grasp. "What was that? Are you okay?" Romano didn't answer. He just kept quietly leading Antonio along through the airport, guiding him through the crowd, waiting with him at the check-in station, and then walking with him as far as the security gate would allow him. Before Antonio passed through, he asked Romano again if he was alright, why he was acting strange.

Romano felt his face heat up. "I just...I wanted to be the last person you said goodbye to..."

There was that smile. He'd hoped that he'd be able to draw it out by saying that. Antonio was pretty easy in that regard. He would always brighten up when Romano said something uncharacteristically sweet to him. But then something happened that Romano didn't expect. Antonio cupped Romano's face in his hands, leaned down, and kissed him.

It was a short, but deep kiss that made Romano stiff and weak at the same time. But more than that, it had been in  _public_. When the kiss broke, Romano was compelled to glance around to see if anyone had been looking. This had never been something that they did. Well, they'd held hands a few times in public, but that had been different. Somehow. Everything else had always been behind closed doors; secret. Romano just stared up at Antonio's grinning face, not sure what to say or do. He should have known Antonio well enough to know what this meant, what he was thinking, but Romano was never good at reading these kinds of things.

The two of them finally said goodbye, though Romano stayed back for a bit till he could no longer see Antonio amidst the disorganized mess of people trying to make it through security. Romano, lightheaded and more than a little confused, got back to the drop-off area and found Gilbert waiting for him and looking thoroughly pissed off. Romano didn't really want to get back in the car with him. He wasn't looking forward to the ride back.

"You realize that you  _live_   _with Antonio_ , right?" Gilbert yelled as soon as Romano reluctantly sat in the passenger seat. "Yesterday was the first time I've seen him in  _years_ , and I didn't even get to say goodbye to him!" Romano expected him to go on a rant, but he didn't. He said what he wanted to say and then shut up for the rest of the very awkward ride home.

Romano felt like a piece of shit. He realized after being yelled at that Gilbert was right. He'd been acting selfishly, and Gilbert's anger was completely justified. And remembering that he'd promised Antonio to try to get along with his friends didn't help at all. Romano thought about apologizing, but he wasn't sure how to go about it, so he dismissed the idea. The only way he figured he could make amends was if he just didn't speak for a while and gave Gilbert a break from his, he could admit, difficult personality.

Gilbert went straight upstairs to the apartment when they got back, and Romano wasn't eager to follow him. Besides, he needed to open the café before it got too late in the morning. It was already several hours past their normal opening time. They had missed the busiest hours on the busiest day of the week, but there was nothing they could have done to avoid it. Romano would just have to do his best to make up for it.

Gilbert and Ludwig came down the stairs into the café not long after Romano had put on his apron and gotten behind the register. Gilbert gave him a confused look.

"Are you running the café by yourself?"

Romano gave him the obvious answer and Gilbert looked like he wanted to retort, but he didn't. He just followed his brother out the front door to their car. Romano wouldn't have explained himself if he'd asked, anyway. As far as Antonio knew, the café was to remain closed while he was in Spain. In Romano's mind, however, this was the perfect opportunity to prove that he was a completely responsible and capable adult. It would take a lot to run the shop by himself, but Romano was prepared for it. Besides, with all the expenses of flying to Spain to have a funeral, they couldn't afford to close the café for an entire week. Antonio hadn't seemed too worried about finances when Romano had mentioned it, but Romano didn't like taking chances.

The two Germans busied themselves with moving boxes of all their crap up into the already cramped apartment. They kept going in and out, letting all the air-conditioning escape, impeding the influx of any potential customers. Romano wanted to tell them to stop blocking traffic. He would have, if he had more than one or two people wandering in during the whole hour Gilbert and Ludwig spent unloading their car, and if watching the two of them pass back and forth wasn't the only thing to take his mind off his crippling boredom. He was almost disappointed when they finished, but he changed his mind about that when, instead of following his brother upstairs, Gilbert came and took a seat on one of the bar stools.

"I have a question for you." Romano eyed him warily from behind the register. With his relaxed attitude, Romano might have assumed he'd completely forgotten that they'd been at each other's throats all morning, but he didn't trust that thought. Gilbert pointed back to one of the windows at the front of the café. "What the hell kind of name is that?"

Besides the blue neon sign that currently read  _"open"_ , there was a sign that displayed the slightly faded name of the shop. "Coffee Café?"

"Yeah. It sounds like you think no one knows what the fuck 'café' means. Or you just have no imagination."

Romano shrugged. "I didn't make the fucking sign, it was there when Antonio bought the place and he didn't take it down."

"Why not?"

"How the hell should I know?" Probably a combination of reasons. One being practicality. Antonio didn't want to spend money and go to the trouble of getting a new sign when they had a perfectly good one. Plus, Romano suspected that Antonio liked the name, at least ironically.

"Don't you think it's a stupid name?"

"Of course I do," Romano said freely. He'd told Antonio several times that it was a stupid name, but it didn't bother Antonio, and he was the owner, so whatever.

Gilbert leaned forward and folded his arms over the counter top, smiling pleasantly. Romano didn't like how comfortable he was looking. He wished he'd just go back upstairs. "What would you change the name to if you could?"

Romano admitted that he had no idea what he would name the café. He probably couldn't come up with anything cool or creative and he didn't want to try.

"I know what I would name it." At the risk of encouraging conversation, Romano went ahead and asked him what name he had in mind. "Grinders!"

Romano unexpectedly burst with laughter at the way Gilbert proclaimed his idea so excitedly and had to slap a hand over his mouth. "That sounds like the name of a stripper bar!"

Gilbert looked rather pleased with himself for being able to get Romano to laugh. "It does," he granted, not at all discouraged. "That could be the gimmick!"

Romano couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You want to turn this coffee shop into a stripper bar..."

"All the baristas could wear bunny girl outfits!" He reminded Gilbert that the only baristas working there were him and Antonio. "Right." Wait, was Gilbert suggesting that he dress in a bunny girl outfit? "Fine, you guys can wear bow ties and those skimpy little apron things or something." Not better, actually. Romano had to explain to him that no one,  _literally no one_ , wanted to go to a coffee shop with a stripper theme several times before he finally dropped the idea. "Okay, okay. Stripper bar slash café is not a good idea."

"No, it's not," Romano said. "Now go away, I'm busy."

"Aww," he grumbled. "But we're having a moment." Romano frowned. What moment? They weren't having a moment. He was trying to work. "What if I order something?"

"You're not a customer, you fucking live upstairs, I don't have to get you shit."

Gilbert pouted and spread his torso lazily over the counter like he was preparing to take a nap. "But I spent the last hour moving heavy boxes, and I'm thirsty! Anyway, don't you owe me for the way you acted this morning?"

Dammit. Of course he hadn't forgotten. And now he was using that against Romano. And it was working, because Romano still felt guilty. "Fine," he huffed. "What do you want?"

"I want a soda!"

"This is a _café_."

"What?" Gilbert asked incredulously. "You don't have soda?"

"We do, but why—"

"Soda!"

"Alright! I'll get you a fucking soda."

The soda that they had downstairs wasn't on the menu for customers to order, it was in case either Romano or Antonio wanted some during their lunch breaks. Blood orange flavored Italian soda was the best soda, and Gilbert had better fucking appreciate that Romano generously poured him what little they had left of it.

"There," he said, emerging from the kitchen and setting the drink in front of Gilbert. "Now stop distracting me."

They didn't keep any glassware in the café, so Romano had used a small coffee cup. Gilbert downed its bubbly pinkish contents in a few gulps. "What am I distracting you from? There's, like, three people in here.  _Including_  me."

"Four," Romano corrected as a young lady entered through the front, sounding the bell. Romano whipped around, flashed her a confident smile, and said very sweetly, "Ciao, bella! What can I get for you?"

Gilbert's jaw practically dropped to the floor. Romano would have laughed at the ridiculous expression if he wasn't in the middle of something.

The woman needed a minute to think about what she wanted and Romano encouraged her to take all the time in the world. She eventually ordered an iced coffee and an empanada, and Romano asked if she'd like her receipt, calling her sweetheart—in Italian, so she didn't understand, but she still responded favorably, all blushy and giggly. He told her thank you and to have a beautiful day, and then he turned to Gilbert with a hint of smugness. "Close your mouth, idiot."

"And he's back."

"What?"

"What the hell  _was_  that?" Romano had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. He had just been taking an order. "No, seriously, where did Prince Charming go? Are you always like that with customers?"

"Only the girls." Clearly, Gilbert hadn't noticed the male customer that had come in earlier that morning, which Romano was very thankful for. First, Romano had spoken too softly for the man to hear him. Romano had tried to be pleasant, but everything just sort of fell out of his mouth drenched in this acidic tone. Then the guy had snapped at him, and he snapped back. Then he'd gotten the order wrong and made the man late. The entire ordeal had been a complete disaster.

"Why do you treat the girls differently?"

"Because, girls are pretty. And they're nice, especially if you're Italian and are flirting with them," he said matter-of-factly. "Guys are not pretty or nice."

"Well, guys might be a little nicer to you if you treated them more like you did that lady."

"You want me to flirt with the guys?" He narrowed his eyes at Gilbert. "You just want to see me get punched in the face, don't you?"

"You don't have to flirt, just be friendly."

It was such an easy thing for Gilbert to say. Not so easy a task for Romano to perform. That much was made apparent when a male customer who'd been sitting alone by the windows came up to the register. Before Romano had even opened his mouth, Gilbert stopped him saying that he had this horrible expression on his face, like he was in pain. What's worse, Romano was sure he saw the customer nod in agreement before turning his face away.

"Jesus, you're hopeless. Hold on," Gilbert said, pushing himself up from his seat with a sigh. He hurried around the counter and past the low counter door.

"Hey! You can't come back here!" Too late. Gilbert was already back there. "What do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like?" He found the box underneath the counter where they kept a few extra aprons and he pulled one out for himself. "You'll lose half your customers if you keep this up. What would you tell Antonio if he came back from Spain to find that his café had gone out of business?"

"You don't know how to work the register," Romano argued.

"Then you have a choice," he said, placing a hand on the monitor. "You can either teach me how to use this contraption, or you can continue dealing with customers by yourself."

Romano took a second to imagine what the rest of the week would be like if he refused Gilbert's help. A second was really all he needed to decide. The day was nowhere near over yet and he was already mentally exhausted. He couldn't keep this up if the café really got busy. He missed being in the kitchen, where it was quiet and he didn't have to speak or fake smile, where he could escape all the bullshit. So, Romano let Gilbert talk to the man across the counter, who'd just wanted to know the Wi-Fi password. Then, Romano began training Gilbert on the register.

Gilbert was very good with customers. He constantly had to look over his shoulder at the menu hanging on the wall to know what was being ordered, he didn't know what any of the items looked like, and he kept calling Romano from the kitchen so he could remind him of the more complicated transactions, but he just laughed and apologized for making the customers wait and they all said, "Oh, that's fine." And for all the mistakes he made in the first few hours, he learned quickly. Even when Romano had agreed to the arrangement he hadn't been convinced that Gilbert was going to be a good worker, but he was genuinely impressed with his positive attitude and focus.

When noon came was the only time Gilbert showed a bit of nervousness. Romano thought he might be having a stroke after telling him that he was going to take his lunch break first. His eyes were huge and filled with panic. Romano had to clarify that he wasn't leaving the building before he regained composure. He later insisted that he hadn't been the least bit worried and that he, unlike Romano, could run the whole operation on his own, because he was just that good. Romano was tempted to let him try, but he was afraid that he might have a break down. Or set the place on fire trying to use the oven.

Feliciano came home from school early in the afternoon, the normal time that he did, and popped into the café to say hello before he went up to the apartment. He was surprised to see Gilbert behind the counter smiling and waving at him. Romano yelled at Gilbert when he left his place at the register, and he reached for the kitchen knife when Gilbert tried to latch himself on to his younger brother.

"Romano!" Feli followed his brother into the kitchen once Romano had gotten Gilbert off him. He wrapped Romano in a hug. Romano made a show of struggling, but if he were honest he didn't mind his brother hugging him that much. "You're making friends!"

"We're not friends," Romano said. "I'm just using him so I don't have to talk to stupid people."

No matter how many times Romano said that he wasn't and didn't want to be friends with Gilbert, Feliciano didn't seem to believe him. He kept saying things like, "Sure, Fratello," and "Of course. Whatever you say." Romano wondered where he'd gotten that sarcastic attitude from.

When six o'clock rolled around, it was time to close for the night. The world outside was growing dark. A bright pink hue settled along the horizon, stretching upwards and fading into blue black. The café had been empty for a while. Gilbert locked the door and switched the neon sign from  _"open"_  to  _"closed"_  while Romano began cleaning the kitchen. Once the front had been taken care of, Gilbert came back and leaned against the metal table in the center of the kitchen. He watched Romano clean for a bit before he said, "So, I guess I shouldn't take it personally when you act like an asshole towards me, since you seem to do that to everyone." He laughed jokingly.

"By all means, take it personally."

Gilbert ignored the comment and continued. "Well, except women. Which still doesn't make any sense. You don't just hate all guys, do you?"

That wasn't it, but Romano still didn't see a reason why he should be nice to them. Being nice to women practically guaranteed that they'd be nice to him in return, whereas being nice to men didn't guarantee him shit.

"I mean, you like Antonio."

"That's different," Romano said.

"You like your brother."

"That's debatable."

"You like me!" Gilbert said, grinning.

"That's—" He threw a glare over his shoulder. "Who the hell ever said I liked you?"

Gilbert stood tall, practically sparkling with confidence. "Why  _wouldn't_  you like me? I'm awesome!"

Romano rolled his eyes and kept his mouth shut. Gilbert certainly wasn't going to hear anything that might boost his already inflated ego from him. He told him that he could go on upstairs and do whatever the hell he wanted now that they were closed, saying that he could finish cleaning up by himself. Gilbert had spent his entire day helping out when didn't have to, he was probably dying to get out of there by now. Romano was, but this was his job. He had to do it. Gilbert didn't. The more Romano reflected on it, the more he understood why Gilbert and Antonio were friends. And, sure, though  _no one_  would ever get him to say it out loud, he supposed he appreciated Gilbert being there.


	4. Chapter 4

The apartment was now littered with boxes that they had no place for. Feliciano asked at one point if Gilbert and Ludwig had put their furniture in storage until they'd found a place of their own, since it seemed that furniture was the only thing they hadn't carried with them. They claimed that they didn't have furniture. Romano asked Feliciano what the hell that was supposed to mean, why wouldn't they have furniture? Feliciano didn't know either. He wanted to question further, but Romano thought they probably shouldn't.

Romano took it upon himself to dictate the sleeping arrangements. Two people were going to have to share a bed, unless someone wanted to take the couch, which no one did. Gilbert outright refused to share a bed with his brother, not that Romano really blamed him. He imagined Ludwig taking up three quarters of any one of their beds all by himself. Romano wouldn't allow either of the Germans to touch his brother. Or him, for that matter, but they were probably just as opposed to the idea. So, Gilbert took Antonio's room and Ludwig took Feliciano's, because their damn germs were already on those sheets anyway. Feliciano and Romano shared Romano's bed.

Romano woke up early in the morning so he would have time to make some fresh magdalenas and churros before opening the café. Though it took all his will to crawl out of bed, one of Romano's favorite things about working in Antonio's shop was when he could cook and bake while everyone else was still asleep, when the sun was barely rising. The world was at a standstill, but he was bustling. The air was cool from the waning night, and the day just seemed so pure and tranquil. But then, sooner or later, someone had to wake up.

"You sing while you cook?" came a sudden voice that nearly made Romano drop his mixing bowl. "That's...surprising."

Romano whirled around to find Gilbert leaning against the door frame and rolling up his sleeves. Romano hadn't known he'd been singing, but that wasn't what bothered him. He was prepared to say something, but he was struck by the outfit that Gilbert had on and completely forgot what it had been. The man before him was wearing a white dress shirt, its buttons taut against his chest and stomach, tucked neatly into fitted black slacks and a leather belt. The punk was gone, and here was a gentleman. Romano had always liked nice, fashionable clothes, but now he really started to appreciate what they could do for someone. "Wow," he breathed, realizing too late what had just escaped him.

Gilbert looked up from adjusting his sleeve, his brows raised and creasing his forehead. He broke out in a cocky grin. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

He chuckled. "Do I look that amazing?"

"Your clothes are wrinkled," Romano said, though that had been the last detail he'd noticed. "Why are you dressed like that, anyway?"

Gilbert grabbed a chair from against the wall and sat down beside one of the steel work tables. "They were packed, of course they're wrinkled _._ And since I'm going to be the one taking orders and serving people, I figured I should look like I actually work here."

Romano was quick to point out that Gilbert  _didn't_  actually work there. "You're not getting paid for any of this. You volunteered." Also, Romano and Antonio never wore clothes like that for the café. They always dressed nicely, but not so formally, and not in uniform black and white. Though...looking at Gilbert...Romano couldn't say that he minded that much.

He shook his head furiously and set his mind on work, spooning the magdalena mixture into a muffin pan, placing it in the oven, preparing the deep-fryer. Gilbert just sat there. He didn't say anything and he didn't get up from his seat, he just kept watching Romano. That was going to get old really quickly. What did he want? If he was simply bored and wanted to chat, he was going to be disappointed. Romano didn't want to talk to him.

Well, considering talking might make things less uncomfortable, it might be a good idea. Except Romano wasn't sure  _how_  to talk to him. He didn't know him well enough for this to come naturally, and he was generally awful at starting conversations.

He tried. "Why are you up so early? The café doesn't open for a while."

Gilbert shrugged. "You're up, so..."

Well, that was a pathetic attempt. And that answer didn't even explain anything. Annoyed, Romano went about piping strips of churro dough into the fryer in silence. Gilbert was unconcerned. He rested his elbow on the table beside him and supported his head in his hand, still staring. As Romano held the pastry bag above the boiling hot oil he was aware that his hands were shaking. This was so fucking awkward.

There had to be something they could talk about. Romano didn't want to talk about himself, because he wasn't all that interesting and he didn't want to sound self-absorbed. He was reluctant to ask questions about Gilbert, because that could easily come across as nosy or flirtatious. But there was one question that had been pestering him that still hadn't gotten answered. It seemed like a safe enough question, and Antonio had told him to go to Gilbert about it if he really wanted to know.

Romano glanced over his shoulder and asked, "So, why did you decide to move out here all of a sudden?" From the look on Gilbert's face, Romano figured that wasn't a good question at all.

"A few different reasons," Gilbert mumbled, looking around the room. He explained that Ludwig was transferring to a new school, which happened to be the same school that Feliciano was going to, and how he'd been out of work for a while and thought that he should find a new job in a new town. He avoided details about why they'd left their old place so abruptly after getting out of what he kept referring to as a " _bad situation_ ".

"Situation?"

"...Relationship."

"Oh."

Neither of them said anything more about the subject. In a way, nothing else needed to be said.

Romano gave up on conversation and told Gilbert that if he wanted to be useful he should go restock the bathrooms and clean the dining area. It was busywork. Romano had already done all those things the night before, but at least it would get Gilbert out of the kitchen until the café opened. Romano expected Gilbert to catch on to what he was doing, but he figured he'd just pretend to wipe tables or something. Instead, Gilbert came back a few minutes later to tell him that he'd been looking at the silverware for some fucking reason and it needed to be polished.

Romano didn't doubt it. He had to polish the cutlery regularly, because water spots would always build up, especially on the spoons. Even though they were perfectly clean, it was unsightly, and customers might complain. Romano checked the clock. They didn't have enough time to polish all the utensils before they opened now. Romano asked Gilbert to take the worst looking ones out and hide them in the kitchen. Hopefully they could get through the day without incident and Romano could just polish them after closing.

In the time that they had left, Romano was able to finish up in the kitchen while Gilbert organized the silverware holders. They opened at six o'clock, keeping the arrangement they'd had the day before: Gilbert stayed at the front and took care of customers, and Romano stayed in the back and took care of food and drinks. Gilbert was as upbeat and cheerful as he'd been the first day. Customers liked him. He had a good-natured spirit that drew others to him. Kind of like Antonio—only louder.

Dammit, Antonio had only left yesterday and Romano already missed him. He really needed to stop thinking about him, but that was difficult when a certain German kept reminding Romano of him. The way that Romano and Gilbert cooperated in the shop was the same way Romano and Antonio had done things. Gilbert was confident and at ease working the front end in a way that almost made Romano jealous, exactly like Antonio. But Gilbert wasn't Antonio, and he couldn't replace him. That just made Romano miss his friend more.

Gilbert moved with abounding energy, and Romano wasn't used to that. Antonio was much more easy-going. Gilbert had this overwhelming, demanding presence that Romano could feel even from the kitchen and, honestly, it was intimidating.

And then there were moments when Gilbert behaved like a silly little kid and Romano didn't know whether to chastise him or simply give in. Romano didn't leave the kitchen unless he was taking an order out, and then he'd typically pass it to Gilbert to serve and slip back inside. So, it caught Gilbert's interest when Romano was being very protective of the latte that one lady had ordered and chose to carefully pass the cup to her himself. He peered over Romano's shoulder at the foam pattern freshly etched into the coffee. "Whoa!" he exclaimed, eyes wide with amazement. "It's a butterfly! That's so cool!"

Romano's chest swelled from the praise, but he wasn't too enthusiastic when Gilbert started asking him to show him how to make latte art. "It's hard to do. It takes a lot of practice."

"I'm sure I can get it. You just pour milk or cream or whatever and draw a picture, right?"

"It's  _microfoam."_ Gilbert clearly had no idea what that was. “Steamed milk. And it requires technique and precision, you can't just fucking pour it in."

"Teach me!" His eagerness and determination were tiresome...but...strangely endearing. Romano gave in.

There wasn't a line at the register at that moment, so he took Gilbert into the back and explained how to dose and tamp coffee to brew a good shot of espresso. Freshly ground coffee, always. Into the basket, brush off the excess with one finger. Press the grinds. Be sure not to hit the tamp against the basket when you're finished, because that defeats the whole fucking purpose of tamping. Gilbert started to say that he wasn't interested in any of that, he just wanted to know how to make the pretty designs. Romano told him to shut up and listen, because if he was going to teach him he was going to teach him right.

As they waited for the espresso to drip through, Gilbert said, "It's kind of funny when you think that we've both known Antonio for years but never met each other until just the other day."

Romano wasn't sure if that was funny. It was life. "How long have you been friends with Antonio?"

"We met in high school, so about ten years? We even went to the same college for a little bit. Till he decided he was going to own a café and dropped out."

Romano remembered that. He hadn't been able to see Antonio when he was away at college. That had sucked. Antonio told them that he was going to major in business, and they all tried to imagine him in a stiff suit sitting in some dismal office and they instantly knew it wasn't going to work out. A year and a half later Antonio was a dropout and working hard to save money and follow his dream, which was much more like the Antonio that Romano knew. That had been a long time ago, but Romano remembered it all vividly. Gilbert had never been there.

"I'm guessing Antonio never talked about that?"

"No." Romano started to feel like there was a lot Antonio had never talked to him about, and it bothered him.

"Well, he always talked about you guys. He used to babysit Feli, didn't he?"

"Yeah..."

That was probably the reason, at least in part. For years, Romano had just been the brother of the kid that Antonio babysat. They'd known each other. Romano liked to think that they'd been friends then, but they hadn't been exactly  _close_. At that time, Antonio was friends with Gilbert, and other people Romano didn't know. But Romano's grandpa really liked Antonio. The two of them got along very well, and Antonio came over to their house a lot even after Feli was old enough to not need a babysitter. It wasn't until after the brothers had moved in with him that Romano and Antonio got to know each other better, and by that time Gilbert and Antonio had different lives. Still, it was just dawning on Romano that he didn't know Antonio as well as he'd thought.

Antonio had other friends, other people in his life who knew stories about him that Romano had never heard. They knew a completely different side of him that Romano would never see. What had Antonio been like in high school? College? Had he been a good student? A troublemaker? Who had he dated? Which class had been his favorite? Romano didn't know any of these things, because Antonio had never told him. Because Antonio never told him anything about himself, and Romano didn't understand why.

The espresso was ready, and Romano tried to show Gilbert how to prepare the milk, but Gilbert couldn't keep quiet for one fucking minute. "What time does Feli-cakes get home today?"

" _Feliciano_  gets home after one. Are you paying attention?"

"Where is he all the time?"

"He's going to college. Now, look—"

"Oh, really? What's he studying?"

"He's still doing mostly basics right now, but he wants to go into some kind of art thing." Romano had the habit of tuning his brother out when he talked about his life goals, so the only thing that he was certain of was it had something to do with art. Freelance painter, maybe. Something like that. Romano sought to direct Gilbert back to making lattes, without success.

"What about you?"

"What  _about_  me?" Romano asked.

"Why don't you go to school?"

"I went to school," he said. "I completed my basics. After that, I just didn't go back."

"Why not?"

 _Because I'm a loser who can't make major life decisions._  Outwardly, he shrugged. "I don't like school."

"Well," Gilbert pondered a moment, "at least you've got a pretty nice job."

The only problem was that Romano didn't want to work at fucking Coffee Café until he was old and decrepit. He'd been out of school for so long, though, that at this point he was afraid to go back, and he still wasn't confident that he could make the right career choice. How was he supposed to decide what he wanted to do? He wasn't good at anything, certainly not the way that Feli was good at art, and getting stuck doing one thing for the rest of his life sounded like torture.

After a bit, Gilbert said, "Okay...what are we doing again?"

"Oh,  _now_  you want to know what we're doing." He swore that he wanted to learn, but Romano was skeptical. "Did you hear anything I said about steaming the milk?"

He stared blankly at the coffee machine. "Umm...we, uhh...purge...something..." Romano rolled his eyes with a sigh. "Wait! I remember!"

"Be careful with the steam wand," he said, watching Gilbert fiddle with the lever. Gilbert jumped back with a yelp when scalding water came spurting out. "Dammit, I said be _careful_!"

Romano pushed the lever back and rushed Gilbert and his wounded hand to soak in the sink. He kept a hold on Gilbert's wrist and examined the damage. It wasn't bad. His palm around the thumb was red and slightly swollen, but it wasn't likely to blister. It would fade away in a day or so. "Did you get burnt anywhere else?"

Gilbert bit his lip and shook his head.

Being in the kitchen so often, Romano had more than enough experience dealing with burns. Let lukewarm water wash over the injured area for approximately one minute. He counted the seconds in his head, but started to lose track as he noticed Gilbert studying him. "Your disguise is failing."

"What?" Romano asked.

"You're not nearly as mean as you try to be."

He released Gilbert's hand and stepped away. Who the hell did this guy think he was, acting like he knew anything about him? It didn't matter if Antonio had ever talked about him, that wasn't the same thing.

He told Gilbert his hand was fine and he should probably get back to the register. He said that he thought he heard the shopkeeper's bell, which wasn't true, but Gilbert ought to get back to the front all the same. He was beginning to make Romano regret choosing to indulge him. Gilbert gave him a puzzled look, but he left quietly and the two of them went back to working in their separate spaces, as they should.

 

* * *

 

"What do you think of Gilbert?"

Romano raised an eyebrow at his brother. Feliciano was in the kitchen with him so that he could do the two things he liked to do most after just getting home from school: eat and bug his older brother. He had stolen Romano's stove top so that he could make pasta, even though they had a perfectly good kitchen with a fully functioning stove in the apartment. And what the hell was with that question? That had come out of nowhere. Romano wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. "I don't hate him."

"That's good," Feli said brightly.

He didn't say anything for a while after that, but Romano knew there had to be more to it. He watched his brother stir the pasta sauce out of the corner of his eye. Sometimes Feli just said random things that came to his head without offering any context, but Romano sensed that this wasn't one of those moments.

"What do you think of Ludwig?"

There it was. Romano clacked his tongue and glared at the far wall. "If you're going to ask for my blessing, save your breath."

Feliciano was shocked and a little embarrassed that Romano had figured out that he liked Ludwig. Romano didn't know why, he was so fucking obvious. He'd seen the way he hovered around the macho German, touchier than he usually was, just to the point of being notable. When Feliciano asked, Romano said he didn't care if he went after Ludwig. Which was a lie, Romano cared very much, but Feliciano wasn't going to listen to him if he told him not to do it, so what was the point? Whether or not Feliciano could tell that Romano wasn't being honest, he seemed happy. And that was that.

Romano found out that the pasta was for Ludwig and Feliciano to eat together. That knowledge made the entire kitchen feel tainted and Romano had to step out for a minute. His brother and the German bastard ate in the café, as if they were trying to rub their stupid budding romance in Romano's face. He was glad when they finished and got up to leave, until Feliciano turned back and called out to Gilbert, saying, "Oh! I talked to Romano, and he said he doesn't hate you. Which in Romano-speak means he likes you!"

"That's not fucking true! Stai zitto!"

Gilbert watched their younger brothers head off down the street with a smile. "They seem to really get along, huh?" Romano made a disgruntled noise. "What's wrong with it?"

Romano considered it his job to disapprove of anyone who was involved with his little brother on principle and didn't think that he needed a reason. Though, he did have a few. "They just look  _weird_  together. Your brother's so big and muscular and serious, and Feli's so...Feli! It freaks me out!"

He laughed. "That's not a very good reason for two people not to be together."

Well, it would have to do for now. Romano had another reason for being upset, but he didn't want to say it out loud. He brooded over it alone in the kitchen for the rest of the afternoon. He knew he shouldn't be, but he was jealous of his brother. Part of him had always wished he could be a little more like Feliciano. Not a clone, but a little more open, a little more gifted, a little surer of himself. Feli had his whole life together and never seemed to have any worries. And to top it all off, he was capable of forming actual, decent relationships. Friendship. Romance. What Romano wouldn't give to have that.

What he had with Antonio was somewhere between friendship and romance. It wasn't normal. It probably wasn't good for his health, either. But Romano had kept it all to himself for so long that he didn't know how to fix the situation anymore. He and Antonio would just keep going on like they had been until...until something happened. Romano wasn't sure where they were heading.

Around closing time, Gilbert found Romano in the back of the kitchen clutching his aching chest and wanted to know what was wrong. He was frantic, most likely believing Romano was suffering a heart attack. Romano had never had a heart attack, but he imagined this pain was basically the same thing. Romano told him multiple times to leave him alone, but he refused.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong."

" _Fine_."

If it would get Gilbert to stop pestering him, Romano would tell him. It took a lot to force it out, and Romano very nearly broke into tears doing so. He left out anything about Antonio, but he confessed how he feared he was going nowhere in life, that he often wondered if he was hopeless. Gilbert listened intently as he told him that he sometimes felt paralyzed by his lack of direction and indecision. He gave Romano a stern look the moment he stopped and asked, "How old are you?"

"Twenty-two," Romano answered, confused.

"That's how you're  _supposed_  to feel at your age. It makes you work harder," he said. "Trust me, everyone feels that way at twenty-two. Hell, I still feel that way, and I'm four years older than you." Romano hadn't expected Gilbert, of all people, to understand his insecurities. "You can't let that stuff keep you down, though. You do what you have to. If you need to take time to figure things out, then that's okay, but don't just sit around doing nothing about it."

Gilbert was not the type of person to speak in eloquent or profound speeches. Romano understood all the things he told him without him saying them, but he appreciated Gilbert taking the time to say them anyway. Sometimes, he just needed to hear those words from someone else for them to have an effect. After taking a moment, Romano muttered a thank you. It sounded obliged, and in part it was.

Gilbert opened his arms. "Do you want a hug?"

"No, not really."

"Okay." He opted for a pat on the shoulder, which Romano allowed.

After they closed shop, Gilbert headed upstairs to the apartment. Romano wrestled with what he was about to say, waiting till Gilbert was almost out of view to call him back and ask if he'd stay a little bit longer. "The silverware still needs to be polished, and, I mean, you don't have to help if you don't want to, but..."

Of course Gilbert didn't want to. Romano was an idiot for asking. He was just thinking that he might be able to get along with Gilbert after all, and it wasn't a terrible idea to show that he didn't mind spending time with him. Gilbert was probably worn out and didn't want to be around Romano anymore that day, and Romano could certainly understand.

Gilbert smiled at him. "Sure."


	5. Chapter 5

Romano wondered if this could be considered an abuse of Gilbert's kindness. To be fair, he wasn't lying when he'd told Gilbert that he had no fucking clue what to do about the fluorescent tube in the dish room that had suddenly burnt out. He'd never had to change those lights before. He didn't know if they had extras, or where they would be, or how to take out the old one without breaking anything. It wasn't to justify not doing something he really didn't have the patience to do. And it wasn't an excuse to be around Gilbert, because that was just stupid.

Gilbert didn't mind. Whenever Romano asked him to do something, he was always eager to show off how chivalrous and cool (his words,  _not_  Romano's) he was. He really liked to be useful, so that meant it was okay.

He got an extra light from the supply closet, stood on a chair, and gently removed the acrylic cover from the light fixture while Romano stood by to supervise.

"Back at our old place," Gilbert said, with his arms stretched above his head and his face to the ceiling, "when I was out of work, I would get so bored that sometimes I'd break stuff just so I could fix it."

"Hn." Gilbert was wearing another dress shirt that had to be at least one size too small for him. The fabric strained against his muscles, and the buttons cried out for mercy. It had come untucked when Gilbert had reached for the light to reveal his pale, toned stomach. Romano caught himself following the trail of white fuzz that disappeared into flattering black pants and, okay, this was feeling a bit like he was taking advantage of the guy. "Don't go doing stuff like that around here."

Gilbert chuckled as he finished installing the new light and hopped off the chair. "Not purposely. If I inadvertently break something, I promise to fix it," his lips spread into a sly grin, "and you can watch."

What the—did he just wink at him? Was Gilbert...was he  _flirting_  with him? Romano turned away to hide his embarrassment. He must have imagined it. Gilbert had noticed that he'd been staring and was making fun of him. Shit, Romano hoped he hadn't seen where he'd been looking. On the off chance that Gilbert  _was_  flirting with him, it didn't mean anything. Hadn't he just gotten out of a relationship? He wasn't being serious. It was nothing to get worked up over, and Romano should forget that it had happened.

"Um, okay," Romano mumbled, shifting towards the door. "I'm gonna go do...kitchen...things, and...get back to work, bastard."

It had come to Romano's attention as the week had progressed that running the café was a much harder job than he'd realized. There was so much that Antonio dealt with that Romano had never had to think about. What to do if the lights in the dish room went out was a meager example. The kitchen also needed to be restocked, and he wasn't sure how to go about doing that. Antonio was the one who took care of inventory. Who were their suppliers again? And how was he supposed to contact them to order what they needed? Email? Romano had never paid attention to these things. And businesses had budgets for stuff like that. He found theirs in the small office at the back of the shop, but he took one look at that spreadsheet and didn't understand a single fucking thing it said. He checked the walk-in and dry storage a second time and just hoped that what was left would last them four more days.

Trying to keep the café open while Antonio was gone had not been the brightest idea, Romano admitted to himself, but things hadn't fallen apart yet. He stood by the decision, and he fully expected Antonio to be amazed by him when he returned. He couldn't wait to see the look on his face. So long as Romano didn't ruin anything before Monday.

A big part of why this hadn't overwhelmed him so far was that he had Gilbert there. Gilbert tried to take care of things when Romano didn't know what he was doing, and even if Gilbert couldn't fix it he always kept a level head, which prevented Romano from freaking out. Romano knew now that he couldn't have managed this on his own. Even though Gilbert was only doing this because Antonio had asked him to look after everything while he was gone, Romano appreciated it. He was working on being nicer and exhibiting that.

A  _"thank you"_ would have been enough, but Romano didn't trust himself to not bathe the words in sarcasm or chuck them at Gilbert halfheartedly. Actions were more concrete anyway, and Romano thought he had come up with a pretty good idea to show his sincere gratitude. He just had to make sure Gilbert didn't find out about it until the proper time.

He couldn't exactly stop Gilbert from coming into the kitchen, which he did rather frequently to tell Romano an order or to ask questions. Gilbert found Romano kneading a ball of dough and was interested to know what he was doing. Romano's only viable options were dismissing discussion and lying if Gilbert persisted, which is precisely what he did. No, it wasn't an order. Yes, he was still working on that sandwich. He wasn't avoiding anything, and Gilbert should mind his own damn business. Gilbert eventually took the hint and stopped asking about it.

It had been a while since the last time Romano had made cannolis, so things were a little touch-and-go. He couldn't remember if he usually made the shell mixture with one egg and one yolk, or one egg and an egg white, so he just put in two whole eggs. He noticed when he put the dough in the fridge to cool that they didn't have any ricotta. Well, that was okay, they had mascarpone, which was what Feliciano used to make cannoli cream. It wasn't a terrible substitute. It made the cream lighter, and at least it didn't need straining. He had to sneak up to the apartment and do some hunting to find the cannoli tubes. He almost abandoned the search at one point, but he'd already made the stupid dough, so he might as well finish what he'd started.

Romano often complained about having to work in the café. Mostly because it was weird having Antonio be his boss given the relationship they had, which was convoluted enough as it was. But as much as he did, he really liked making food. It was one of a short list of things he was good at. In fact, he used to think about going into the culinary arts before he dropped out of school. Since his conversation with Gilbert yesterday, he'd started considering it again. It wouldn't be difficult, and he already had experience. So long as he was in the kitchen and not dealing with customers he wouldn't mind working in a restaurant. He didn't want to run his own business. He was getting a taste of what that was like now, and he didn't like it. But being a chef, that didn't sound too bad. He might look into it.

When it came time for Romano to take his lunch he ate at the bar, because it was convenient. Because Gilbert still sometimes needed help with the register. It was better for Romano to be there to watch him— _supervise_. Not watch Gilbert specifically. Romano was totally focused on work, and not at all distracted by how Gilbert's rolled up sleeves tightened around his biceps, or the way his vibrant eyes stood out beautifully against his alabaster skin. And he certainly wasn't waiting for Gilbert to come over and talk to him. Gilbert did, of course. But, for the record, Romano hadn't been hoping for that.

Gilbert slid down the counter when there were no customers lining up and started joking about some idiot that had walked in there earlier, long gone by then, who didn't understand that ham came from a pig. Gilbert told the story in such a way that Romano didn't even know why it was funny, but he couldn't stop himself from laughing. It was immature, and unprofessional, and hilarious, and Romano should have told him not to, but he couldn't help it. Not when Gilbert kept smiling at him in that way that made him deeply uncertain about himself.

Romano looked around the café briefly to make sure no one had overheard them. It would be bad if anyone knew they were making fun of customers. When he turned back, he saw Gilbert popping something in his mouth and his eyes fell to his lunch. "Did you just touch my food?"

"Yup." He reached for a grape at the edge of the plate, but Romano slapped his hand away.

"Stop that."

"I'm hungry."

"You'll take your break after I'm done."

He pouted. "You're teasing me by eating in front of me."

"That's not an excuse to fucking grab someone else's food. Stop looking at it."

"Just one more grape?"

One, that was it, and then Gilbert would stop stealing his lunch. Romano didn't realize the mistake he'd made until after he'd pushed the grape into Gilbert's mouth and his thumb was brushing against his lower lip.

Romano jerked his hand back. Should he apologize, or would calling attention to it just make things more awkward? He tried to read Gilbert's expression, but all he saw was his lips and the grape rolling around behind his teeth and— _holyfuckingshit_ —his tongue licking the corner of his mouth. Romano turned his eyes down to his food and focused on non-arousing thoughts.

It was a very bad thing to be attracted to someone that you were living and working in close quarters with. It was an even worse thing if that person was your best friend's old school friend. Oh, and add the fact that you're secretly sleeping with your best friend, and you have yourself an absolute clusterfuck.

No. This wasn't a big deal, Romano was overreacting. He was physically attracted to Gilbert, yes, but he wasn't desperate for him or anything like that. Romano could control simple bodily urges. Just take them and bury them and never, ever let them be known. That was the plan. Easy enough.

Romano finished his lunch and hurried back into the solitary kitchen so Gilbert could take his turn. Romano felt sorry whenever Gilbert went on his breaks, because he still had to be on the clock and get back on the register if a customer approached the front. He couldn't eat in peace, because Romano was incapable of covering for him and there was no one else. It was how Antonio did it when he was there, too. By evening, they ended up working longer and harder than him, and that wasn't fair to them. Romano couldn't change that, though. All he could do was make fucking cannolis.

After they closed, Romano told Gilbert not to worry about cleaning up. He said he could do it all faster himself and that Gilbert should just stay out of the way. Gilbert would sit down for a few minutes, complain about being bored, then try to help until Romano snapped at him, then go back to complaining. Romano finally told him to go wipe the windows, since it was the easiest and simultaneously most time-consuming job he could come up with on the spot. What's more, it got Gilbert out of the kitchen, so that when Romano had finished everything else he was able to fill the cannoli shells with cream he'd prepared earlier without Gilbert seeing.

Two plates of fresh pastries were set on the center work table by the time Gilbert returned. His eyes lit up and he asked what they were for. "Oh. I just felt like making them," Romano said nonchalantly. "You can have some if you want."

He warned Gilbert not to drop crumbs all over his nice, tidy kitchen if he was going to eat in there, which Romano knew he was. They pulled up a couple of chairs to sit across a table corner from one another. As they ate, the ease at which the conversation flowed took Romano by surprise. It was very seldom that he got comfortable around someone so quickly. It was nice.

"You cannot play the flute."

"Yes I can!" Gilbert asserted. "Why is that so surprising?"

"If you said you play the drums or some other obnoxious instrument like that, I'd believe you."

"I'm going to play for you sometime. I'll give you a special concert so you can see how awesome I am at the flute. I kick the flute's ass."

"Your technique sounds beautiful."

"Shut up."

It wasn't a very penetrating discussion, but it was still nice.

In retaliation towards Romano's doubtful taunts, Gilbert took the blob of cream that remained on his plate and put it on Romano's face, throwing him completely off-balance. Romano could not find the words to express his displeasure at having his face touched and dirtied. He gaped silently at the white splotch covering his nose, cross-eyed. Gilbert thought it was hilarious, especially when the cream started to drop on the recently mopped floor and Romano burst into a fit of rage.

"Oh my god," Gilbert said breathlessly, still laughing. "You're adorable."

Romano forgot his anger as his heart caught in his throat. He was rarely ever  _"cute"_ , much less  _"adorable"_. He'd never tried to be cute anyway, he didn't know why these words should affect him, but they did.

"Don't say shit like that."

"Why not?"

 _Because_ , he thought, _if you keep saying things like that, if you keep doing everything that you're doing, I might..._

"Just don't." He looked away, hoping there wasn't any noticeable color in his cheeks. "Anyway, everyone knows Feli is the cute one." The words came out with a hint of bitterness, but almost all of it was self-directed.

"Yeah. Feli's cute," Gilbert agreed, propping his chin up with his elbow resting on the table. Romano couldn't tell him how sick he was of hearing that crap. "But it's more special with you."

His eyes flickered back up. "What?"

"It's like, Feli can't help but be cute. He just is. But with you, it happens in little moments that I have to watch out for. If I look away, I'll miss them."

What the hell was he saying? Was he serious? It was so stupid and cheesy, yet this overwhelming feeling was swelling in Romano's chest. It terrified him. Gilbert stared at him for too long. Romano felt his entire face flaring, this was so embarrassing. Then, Gilbert's gaze drifted down. Shit, he was leaning in. Oh god, he was going to kiss him. What the fuck! He moved way too fast! Romano wasn't prepared for this! He had to dodge it, or say something, or push him back. Not just sit there, waiting.

Gilbert took a finger and wiped it across his nose. Romano jerked back, very confused by the unexpected move. The little dollop of cream that Romano hadn't noticed was still on his face now coated Gilbert's fingertip. "There," he said, licking it off.

Jesus Fucking Christ, this guy was going to be the end of him.


	6. Chapter 6

About three months before the phone calls from Gilbert Beilschmidt and Antonio's family, it began after dinner and wine. They weren't drunk, but slightly impaired. They were alone in the apartment, on the couch because Antonio had asked Romano to watch a movie with him. Antonio was in one of his more affectionate moods, sitting closer than Romano thought was necessary. The movie was more background noise than anything else, since they were both sleepy from the wine and hardly paying attention. Antonio started to lean, and Romano told him to go to bed if he couldn't even watch the damn TV.

"I don't want toooo," he whined, burying his face in the crook of Romano's neck. The contact made Romano's heart throb and his skin tingle. Antonio took a deep breath and sighed. "You smell like Romano."

"That's really fucking creepy," Romano said, shoving him. "Get off, bastard. Why do you keep hanging on to me like that?"

"I like being close to you."

"Well, I don't like it."

Antonio tried to hug him and looked hurt when Romano pulled away. "Why not?"

"Because! It's...weird." Lately, he'd been putting on a more than usually prickly attitude. He had to, because every time Antonio touched him, his mind started going places it really shouldn't be when it concerned his best friend.

"I don't think it's weird," Antonio said earnestly. "I think it makes sense."

"What?"

He turned his body sideways, tucking his legs sideways underneath him to hang off the edge of the couch. Sparkling green eyes fringed by dark lashes bore into Romano. Goddammit, those eyes were beautiful. Antonio was beautiful. "You know how much I care about you, don't you?"

"Why are you looking at me like that? You're freaking me out."

"I want to show you how much I care about you, but I don't think you'll let me." The words had an underlying sensuality to them that compelled Romano to scoot away.

"You're...you're not going to kiss me, are you?"

He meant it as a joke to break the tension. He realized quickly that it was in very poor taste.

"I want to," Antonio said.

That was either way too honest, or taking Romano's bad joke even further over the line. One of those was probably worse than the other, but Romano couldn't figure out which was which.

"S-stop messing around!"

"I'm not!"

"Why would you say something like that?!"

"Because I  _do_ want to kiss you!"

"Why would you want to kiss me?!" It would have taken Antonio less than a second to close the distance between them. He was moving in painfully slowly, delaying it. Antonio didn't really want this. "What are you doing?!" Romano shouted. There was no point to this stupid game.

"I'm giving you the chance to push me away again," he said.

"I wasn't going to, dammit!" Shit. "I mean..."

It was too late. He'd said those words out loud and could never take them back.

Antonio's eyes lit up with excitement. "Really?"

He rushed a few inches forward, taking Romano by surprise and making him back away instinctively. Antonio stopped to read him. He wasn't leaping from the couch and running away. That was good. Romano would have been amazed by his own self-control, but he wasn't convinced that he hadn't fallen asleep and was simply dreaming all of this. Antonio started to lean in again, and Romano closed his eyes. If this was a dream, he'd gladly embrace it.

A soft, warm kiss turned hungry almost instantly. Antonio pulled him so close that he was nearly falling into his lap. Romano locked his arms around Antonio's neck for support, and to keep the dream from getting away from him. His heart was about to burst, but he wanted to hold on for as long as he could. This was a perfect moment.

The hands that were around Romano's waist moved, one pressing against the small of his back and the other gliding up to caress his head. While running his fingers through Romano's hair, Antonio brushed against  _that_  curl, and Romano snapped back to reality. This wasn't a dream, and this was anything but perfect. How far was this going to go? What did they expect to happen after? This could destroy their friendship. Uncertain and afraid, Romano broke away from Antonio and fled to his room.

 

* * *

 

Sleep had eluded Romano all night. He'd spent hours immersed in thoughts he didn't want to have, alternating between giddy feelings that he aimed to quash and tearful frustration when the feelings wouldn't go away. He could  _not_ have a crush on Gilbert. Crushes were sentimental. Romano could cope with meaningless physical attraction, but this he couldn't handle. To say emotions weren't his strongest suit would be the understatement of his existence. He burrowed further underneath the covers to avoid the faint morning light that peeked through his window blinds, reminding him that he had a full day of this ahead of him.

Why did he have to like  _Gilbert_? Because the guy was decent looking when he cared to be and had worked a few stupid lines on him?  _God_ , Romano was an idiot.

His alarm went off and he pressed the snooze button for the fifth time. He didn't have to get up if he didn't want to. The café was supposed to be closed for the week, anyway. Romano could just stay in his room all day. No one could tell him otherwise, because he didn't have any other responsibilities. Unlike Feliciano, who was stirring beside him.

"Romano?" he heard his brother say. He stayed motionless, eyes closed, pretending to be asleep.

Feliciano must have had enough of resting in five minute intervals between his brother's alarms, because he got up soon after that, even though he still had a few hours before he had to go to school. Romano centered himself on the mattress, enjoying having his bed to himself once again. It didn't last, though. Not ten minutes had gone by before there was a thundering knock on his door and a demanding voice telling him to wake up.

He groaned from under his shelter. There was no part of him that wanted to face Gilbert, but he wasn't given a choice. Gilbert came into the room on his own and yanked the covers off Romano. Being subject to Gilbert's loud voice in the early morning was bad enough. Having the warmth of his comforter ripped from him was about all Romano could take.

"I'm awake!" he shouted, sitting up on the bed. "Christ! Are you happy now?! Get out of my room!" Noting the absence of some essential clothing, he added, "And put a fucking shirt on!"

"Hey, at least I'm not still in my underwear," Gilbert said, looking him over. Romano glanced down at his t-shirt and boxer shorts. He was wearing more clothes than he would have been if he didn't have to share a bed with his brother, thankfully. Having Gilbert catch him like this was upsetting as it was. "Nice view, though."

He barraged Gilbert with pillows and threatened him with far less cushy items until he exited the room.

When Gilbert wasn't around to hear, Romano tried to convince Feliciano to skip school so he could work in the café for him. He told his brother that he thought he was falling sick. It was a great excuse to hide away until he could come up with a better plan for staying clear of that German bastard.

"I can't skip school. I have an exam today, and I studied really hard for it," Feliciano said. "Does this have something to do with Antonio? Do you miss him?"

"This doesn't have anything to do with Antonio."

It did have a little bit to do with Antonio, but not in the way that Feli thought. Romano hadn't done anything wrong, he and Antonio weren't exclusive, but liking someone else felt somewhat like cheating. It had been a long time since he'd been attracted to anyone else, and Romano was still rattled by how suddenly it had happened.

Gilbert didn't know that Romano was keeping the café open without Antonio's permission, and he was bent on preventing Romano from slacking off in his supposed duties. Even if Romano got his way and the café stayed closed, the two of them were still living together. Romano couldn't avoid him entirely. At least when they were working Romano had a certain superiority over him, being an actual employee, and Gilbert would usually, eventually, listen to him when he told him to do or not do certain things, or to leave him alone. He didn't have that kind of authority inside the apartment, so Romano deemed the café to be the smarter option. More feasible than hiding in his room for an indeterminate number of days, anyway.

While they worked, Romano maintained his distance. He didn't try to chat. He ate his lunch in the kitchen to fend off excessive interaction. He wouldn't risk being around Gilbert too much, not when he felt so jittery every time he was close to him.

It was afternoon, before Feli came home, when Gilbert called to him from the register to ask if he'd heard something. The phone upstairs was ringing. Romano told Gilbert to ignore it.

"It might be Antonio."

"I'll go see."

He had been wondering when that jerk would find time to call. He told Gilbert he would be back shortly before slipping away to the apartment.

The landline phone stuck on the kitchen wall was a relic from the 80's. Banana yellow. A complete eyesore, and entirely pointless since they all had cellphones. But Antonio thought it was cool, and so they kept it. And if he gave anyone his cell number, he would definitely give them the number to that phone too. And whenever he was trying to reach Romano or Feliciano and knew they were at home, he would call that ugly thing. It blared a loud, grating tone until Romano rushed in to answer it.

"Hey, Roma." Antonio sounded frazzled. "How's everything?"

"Awful," Romano said. "You're so terrible at picking your friends, I feel sorry for you."

He gave a weak laugh. "How's Feli doing?"

"Oh, fucking peachy. Apparently, he's into that whole He-Man thing that Potato Head Jr. has going on."

"Ludwig and Feli?" he said, voice pitched. "Aww, that's so cute! I approve!"

"Hmph." Romano slouched against the wall, tucking the end of the phone under his chin and twisting the cord around his finger. "You would. Traitor."

Antonio didn't talk much about the things that Romano knew were burdening him. Romano wasn't sure whether it was kinder to ask or to let him break from it all for the moment. He decided on the latter. He couldn't imagine the stress that Antonio was going through. When Romano's grandpa had died he'd been sixteen, too young to be responsible for settling those final affairs. Romano wouldn't have even had room for those concerns amidst the grief he'd felt. He wished he could be there for Antonio like Antonio had been there for him, but Romano was never good at these things.

His mood was worse after he hung up the phone, that feeling of withdrawal presenting itself again. He went about the rest of his day robotic and absentminded. The day went by too slowly as Romano labored in the kitchen by himself. He wanted time to hurry the fuck up and give him his best friend back. There was still an entire weekend left to get through.

Romano was too absorbed in his own thoughts to be fazed when Gilbert first came into the kitchen. He was saying something about needing more coffee cups, and Romano directed him to the cabinet to his right. Romano automatically went for them, even as Gilbert was doing the same. When Gilbert reached up, his hand happened to brush the wayward curl that stuck out from the top of Romano's head. The resulting sound that Romano made was not really a squeak, or a gasp, or a cry, but more of a strange combination of the three. Gilbert looked shocked. "What was  _that_?"

"N-nothing." Romano tried to hide the effects that the touch was having on him.

"That was amazing! How did you even make that noise?" Romano shook his head to say that he wasn't going to talk about this and Gilbert should just drop it. "Oh, no. You're being ridiculously cute. What the hell happened to make you do that? All I did was..." He made the same motion with his hand and grazed Romano's curl,  _again_.

Romano still attempted a guise of indifference. Gilbert pointed to that miserable strand of hair. "Is it this thing?" He rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.

"Stop tha—ah!" Romano gripped the edge of the counter and bit his lip to keep from uttering any undesired sounds.

"I don't get it. How does your hair even do that?"

This was getting out of hand. Romano couldn't deal with this now, so he resorted to a tactic that he'd seen Feliciano use many times to get what he wanted and had copied. As Romano was often reminded, he wasn't as cute as Feli, so he couldn't pull it off as well, but it was still an occasionally handy weapon. He pushed his eyebrows up, made a pout, and gave Gilbert his best pleading face. He even threw in a soft  _"please"_.

It certainly got Gilbert's attention. His eyes widened, a tint of pink coloring his cheeks, and he removed his hand.

"Does it hurt?" Romano was putting a little space between them so that he could breathe normally and he didn't bother answering. "If it's that bad, why don't you just pull it out?"

He punched Gilbert hard in the stomach. "ASSHOLE!"

Then he threw a bag of extra coffee cups in his face and told him to leave the kitchen. He didn't care if Gilbert didn't understand what he'd done wrong to upset him. He didn't care about much at the moment. He just wanted this day to end.

There weren't any major incidents after that, which Romano supposed he should be glad for. He didn't even have to talk that much to Gilbert until after work. He couldn't really find the energy to be grateful for that after such a soul-sucking day, though.

Romano was looking forward to going to bed early that night. As he turned into the hallway to get to his room there was Gilbert, leaning against the bathroom door. Romano intended to ignore him, but there was something about the way he was posed there that he didn't like, that told him Gilbert was up to something.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing," he said with a devilish grin. "I'm just about to be  _hilarious_."

Almost before he'd finished that sentence, there came a loud roar from inside the bathroom. Gilbert jumped at the sound and took off giggling, leaving a bemused Romano behind. Ludwig threw open the bathroom door, emerging with disheveled hair and flaring nostrils. His whole face was red. Toothpaste rimmed his mouth. Romano had never seen Ludwig look so ridiculous. Despite how shitty his day had been, Romano laughed aloud. He couldn't help it, this was fucking priceless. He then promptly got out of Ludwig's way, because that guy was scary when angry.

He listened in on the brothers as they squabbled in the living room, his curiosity sufficiently aroused.

"What the  _hell_  did you do to my toothbrush?!"

"Well, you see, I found these chili peppers, and—"

"And your first thought was to squeeze chili pepper juice onto my toothbrush?!" It was a mildly clever prank, Romano had to admit, and he took pleasure in the fact that it was against his brother's boring love interest.

"I heard it's a great way to boost your immune system! You should be thanking me!"

Ludwig marched past Romano in the hall on his return to the bathroom, muttering something about how he couldn't understand what went through Gilbert's head sometimes. Romano could sympathize with that. He peaked around the corner at Gilbert, standing just beside the couch. Gilbert caught sight of him and shook his head sadly.

"He never could take a joke."

Maybe Gilbert was really a little kid who needed attention. Maybe that was just his stupid humor.

"I thought you were supposed to be the older brother," Romano said.

"Older and  _cooler_  brother. Don't act like you weren't laughing your ass off a minute ago."

Maybe Romano enjoyed that sort of simple playfulness. He folded his arms across his chest and deadpanned, "Just know that if you ever do anything like that to me, I will bury you."

Gilbert gave a slight nod. "Duly noted."


	7. Chapter 7

After the café closed that Friday, Romano went straight upstairs into the apartment and collapsed on his stomach upon the couch. He lied there for an hour, barely stirring, while Feli and Gilbert whispered audibly to each other in the hall. They talked about how he was depressed because of Antonio, which wasn't true. Romano wasn't depressed. He just felt sort of...listless. He was tired, that was all. Like hell Antonio could make him depressed.

"Romano!" He turned his eyes up without moving his head to see Gilbert standing over him. "Ever since I got here, all I've seen you do is work. It's not good for you. You have to mix work and play. So, I've decided that you and I are going to go out and have fun tonight!"

"Don' wanna," he said, burying his face into the cushions. Gilbert grabbed his arm and tried to lift him off the couch, but he fought back. "No!"

"Get up!"

"Leave me alone!"

Then, Feliciano got in on it.

"Fratello, you really should go!" he said. "I don't want you to stress yourself out too much."

He gave Romano those sad, pleading eyes in that cute way that Romano could never compete with. That was just dirty. Neither his brother nor Gilbert were letting up, and Romano didn't have the strength to keep resisting them. They wore him down until he begrudgingly relented.

Gilbert had long since changed out of the formal clothes he wore in the café and into his typical jeans, t-shirt, and hoodie, and yet he still made Romano wait for him before he was ready to go. Romano shot a poignant look towards his brother, who only gave him a grin and a thumbs up. What the fuck was that all about?

Romano grabbed his olive peacoat and waited nervously by the door. He shouldn't jump to conclusions. There was nothing significant about Gilbert trying to spend time with him, or about Feliciano trying to get him to loosen up and let people in. Hanging out for a little bit away from the apartment and the café didn't necessarily insinuate anything beyond the tangible facts, but something was unmistakably off in the way Gilbert beamed like he'd just won something. And Feli, as he pushed them out of the apartment with a  _too_  innocent smile, was suspicious as well. When the door closed behind them and Romano found himself alone on the steps with Gilbert, it really did feel like...

No. That's not what this was. With  _Gilbert_? No. That was impossible. Why the hell had he agreed to this?!

Gilbert tugged on his sleeve. "I like that coat."

"Don't touch me," he said, pulling his arm away. "And don't compliment me, either."

"Technically, I was complimenting your coat." Unable to come up with a quick retort, Romano turned and descended the stairs into the café with Gilbert close behind him. They went out the back door into the dark, narrow alley, and then Gilbert asked, "So, where do you want to go?"

"You're the one who's making me go somewhere, and you don't even have any place in mind."

"I don't know this town," he argued. "I figured you could give me the grand tour. What's there to do around here?"

That was a good question. Romano stopped to think. Where could they go?

There was this art museum that Feli had taken Romano to a few times. Even though Romano wasn't very well-versed in art, it was alright. He enjoyed looking at some of their pieces. And there was a mall that Romano liked not too far from the museum. Both were within walking distance, but by now they were closed. Most places were bound to be closed at this hour, aside from the cinema and a few restaurants, which were not options. If Romano took Gilbert somewhere like that it would be very difficult to keep telling himself that this wasn't a date.

They started along the street, passing all the small, cramped businesses that lined their path and searching for one that was open. Romano altered his pace, always pulling ahead or lagging a few steps behind, so long as he and Gilbert weren't walking side by side. He crammed his fists into his pockets, too, as a precaution. Gilbert probably wasn't going to try to hold his hand, but Romano couldn't help being paranoid. A sense of dread settled in his stomach as he wondered how long this night was going to last.

It wasn't guilt that predetermined he would have a terrible time. Romano was done beating himself up because of Antonio. In fact, it pissed him off when he thought about it. Why should he be feeling bad? He and Antonio just had sex. Romano had been certain that Antonio was going to ask him to be his boyfriend back when it had all started, but two months had passed since then and Antonio had never once asked. He didn't want commitment. Fine then. He didn't get to say shit if Romano decided to date someone else.

Not that this was a date. It wasn't. Romano didn't want to be on a date, and certainly not with Gilbert. Dates had their own special etiquette that Romano neither believed in nor fully comprehended. And Gilbert was...well...

Gilbert dashed excitedly down the sidewalks dimly illuminated by yellow streetlamps. The light reflected off his hair and his face, setting him aglow. Being with Gilbert was like being a scrap of paper caught in a hurricane. Romano didn't have much choice but to be swept up by him. He just had to hold his breath and persevere in Gilbert's dizzying, inescapable wake.

They came across a bar that radiated life behind classic red bricks and a black awning. Though Romano made it plain to Gilbert that he didn't really do the whole bar scene, Gilbert still wanted to pop in for a bit. He promised that if Romano would stay for one drink that he could pick the next stop. Romano consented without having a particular place in mind to go to afterwards. He figured that at least one of them should enjoy their night, so he followed Gilbert's lead.

It was a nice place—cleaner and less seedy than Romano had prepared himself for, with a pungent, bittersweet smell wafting from the alcohol. The waitress who approached them once they took their seats on a couple of black, padded stools at the front was friendly, especially towards Gilbert. She kept shooting him this playful smile, showing off her white, straight teeth. Gilbert’s obliviousness through it all surprised Romano. She had a very pretty face and was openly flirting with him, yet he hardly looked at her. Romano felt sorry for the girl, and so he showed her the little extra affection that she clearly wasn't going to get from the man who sat beside him.

"Well,  _that_  was completely unnecessary," Gilbert said once they'd finished and paid for their acrid refreshments. Romano didn't know what he meant at first, but as they went back to the street and Gilbert chided him further he found that he was having to justify being nice to the lady bartender, which confused him.

"You were ignoring her," he said.

"Because I wasn't interested."

"You crushed her."

Gilbert stared at him in disbelief. "Are you blaming me for your flirting?"

Romano didn't think either of them were at fault here. It was only flirting. It didn't mean anything.

"I just can't stand it when girls get embarrassed and they make that face that looks like they're going to cry," he said.

"That doesn't explain why you  _still have her number_."

"I couldn't get rid of it while we were inside the bar. She might have noticed."

"Uh huh," Gilbert huffed. "Okay, Casanova, just keep it in your pants, alright?"

He didn't bring up the issue again, so he must not have been too angry about it. Romano didn't understand why there was any contention to begin with. Gilbert couldn't be jealous. It didn't suit him. He had this gloomy look on his face, though, and Romano wasn't sure what to do about it.

"Hey," he said, trying to be accommodating. "There's a park nearby. Let's go there."

"A park?"

"Yeah. You said I could choose the next place, so I choose the park."

"Alright," Gilbert muttered, distracted.

That dopey expression was going to make Romano sick if he didn't do something about it. There were trash bins lining the sidewalks, and he made sure that Gilbert saw him walk up to one and toss the napkin that had the waitress's number scribbled in the corner. He didn't have a habit of keeping phone numbers when he got them, so it wasn't a grand gesture. It perked Gilbert up anyway, and they continued with Romano assuming the lead.

Just a block away with the park in view, treetops outlined in a pallid gleam, Gilbert stopped to admire the wire bird cages hanging in the dusty window of a run-down pet shop. Yellow finches and sky-blue budgies were clustered together on their perches. Some were twitching their heads and fighting each other over seeds, others squatted in corners with ruffled feathers, trying to ignore the racket and go to sleep. Romano withheld any interest in the animals while Gilbert pressed his face to the glass with the dorkiest grin. "Birds are great, aren't they?"

"What's so great about them?"

"Well, they can  _freaking_   _fly_ , for one thing. That in itself is amazing!"

Romano shrugged.

"Also, they're super cute."

He had plenty of counter arguments to Gilbert's logic. Sure, the ability to fly was remarkable—enviable. Cute was pushing it. Besides that, birds were just dumb. They never shut up, they made a mess wherever they went, and they were annoying as all hell. Romano had never cared for birds. More than that, he couldn't be attracted to someone who liked birds so much. Yes, that was where he drew the line, because...well, he needed there to be a line  _somewhere_.

It was a bad idea to go to the park, Romano realized once they were strolling along the deserted path with the gravel crunching underneath their heels. Absolutely terrible. It hadn't occurred to him just how romantic it would seem walking with someone here at night, when everything was veiled in misty shadows. The glassy pond shone with the cool light of a half moon. No one else was in sight. Romano hated this. He wanted to die.

They ambled towards the water and Romano plopped down on the grassy slope. He just hoped that Gilbert would get bored of this place and suggest they go somewhere else.

The stars were fading as clouds gathered overhead. Gilbert ventured closer to the edge of the pond and skipped rocks, the ripples he made rolling slowly over the water, distorting the moon's image. "Tell me something I don't know about you," he said over his shoulder.

"We met five days ago, you don't know anything about me."

Not that there was much to know. Romano hadn't done much in his life worth mentioning. He was exceptionally plain.

"That's not true. I know lots of stuff about you," Gilbert said.

"Oh, really?" Romano raised an open hand to him. "Name five things."

Gilbert immediately stepped up to the challenge, leading Romano to wonder why it felt like he was constantly trying to prove something. "I know that you love to cook," he began, tossing a pebble, "and you're really good at it."

It was a poor start. Way too easy. Romano only counted it because he liked the compliment.

"I know that you're a huge flirt when you're confident enough for it, but you don't generally flirt with guys because they intimidate you." Romano insisted that he was  _not_  intimidated, but Gilbert went on, "I also know you're a compulsive liar. Which maybe should bother me more than it does, but I've gotten really good at figuring out what you mean regardless."

Romano narrowed his eyes at him. "You're an idiot."

Gilbert was not dismayed. He smiled at Romano like he'd just proven his point. "You're actually impressed with me. Admit it."

_Never._

Romano held up three fingers. "You need two more."

"Well, really, I should have four."

"You have _three_."

"Actually, the first couple were both in two parts, so it should be five already."

"I'm not going to count the second part about the flirting thing. You still have one more." Gilbert opened his mouth to speak, but stopped short. "You can't think of one, can you?"

"I can," he claimed. "But I'm not going to say it. I'll save it for later."

That was an obvious excuse. Just a way to buy time to come up with something. Romano lied down on his back and folded his arms under his head. "I don't care if you can't think of another one." He hadn't been testing Gilbert. Not really. He was just curious about what he'd have to say. "I hardly know anything about you, so..."

"If you want to know about me, all you have to do is ask," Gilbert teased.

"I don't really, I was just—"

He rushed over and dropped down next to Romano, startling him with a resounding declaration. "It was divined that I be born to two awesome, but tragically unwealthy parents!"

"Are you writing a fucking novel, what the hell is this?"

"I've had to work hard for anything I wanted since I was fourteen. So, you're not really that much of a challenge."

One corner of his mouth turned up as he said that second part. Romano wished Gilbert didn't have to refer to him in the context of wanting.

"The last job I had was as an engineer at a power station. Since there aren't really any of those near here, I'll need to find another way to employ my talents. I earned my way through all of high school and college. I was kind of a troublemaker in my classes, but I got decent grades." He used his shoulder to nudge Romano, who'd fallen silent as he'd talked on. "What were you like in school?"

Romano forced a brusque, airy laugh. "Take a guess."

"I bet you were the shy chic guy that all the girls secretly wanted to bone."

"Nice try. Not even close." He'd been more like the brooding loner that half his classmates openly despised and the other half willfully ignored. How Romano had hated high school. "But I can definitely see you being the troublemaker. I bet the teachers loved you."

He chuckled. "They did, actually!"

That wasn't surprising. Gilbert spread brightness and energy wherever he went. Of course they had loved him.

"It's your turn to ask a question."

Romano hesitated. "I can't think of one."

"Just say whatever. Ask me anything."

He swallowed a nervous lump in his throat, hardly able to think with the way Gilbert was staring at him. "Uhh...what's your favorite color?"

"Pfft. Laaame."

Romano's face flared. "You said just say whatever! So, that's my question. What's your favorite color?"

His smile was unwavering. "Blue."

"Blue?" Romano echoed. "Really?" With Gilbert's intense personality, he would have guessed red.

"What's yours?"

"Um." He pulled on the collar of his olive-green coat. "Kind of like this."

Gilbert nodded appreciatively. "It's a nice color. It's almost the same color as your eyes."

An unwelcome warmth flooded Romano's chest and he turned away from Gilbert's lingering gaze.

As gallant as his efforts were, he had to know that Romano did not plan on giving in to him on this one. He didn't trust Gilbert (or himself) when it came to his emotions. He had no idea what Gilbert's objectives were in flattering him and treating him nicely, but it was making him increasingly uncomfortable. He needed to stay guarded.

Gilbert leaned over and put a hand on Romano's cheek to turn his face back to him. "Romano?"

"Take me back," he blurted, knocking the hand aside and getting to his feet. "It's...it's getting late. We should go back."

The clouds aggregated as they started to head home. Gilbert turned his face to a rumbling sky and stretched out his palm.

"I think it's going to rain."

A light drizzle became a roaring downpour in mere minutes. There was no shelter, save for what the occasional tree could offer. Water was gushing along the sides of the streets through the gutters. The rain pelted against them and soaked their clothes through, slowing them down and making the return much longer and more difficult than it should have been. It was cold, violent, and miserable. Romano wrapped his coat tighter around himself, but it did little good. He trudged along behind Gilbert, until Gilbert reached back and grasped his hand, urging him to run.

Romano did run, as well as he was able to, considering he could no longer feel the ground beneath him. Everything else fell away as he held tightly to Gilbert's slippery grip—the rain, the wind, the cold. None of it weighed on him anymore. He was soaring.

They burst into the café as desperately as near-drowning victims clawing for land, and just as drenched. Romano's chest burned as he tried to catch his breath. Gilbert rested wearily against the door and struggled with a fit of giggling whilst choking for air. Despite Romano's complaints towards how he was shivering as he removed his heavy, sopping coat, he had to purse his lips into a tight line to prevent himself from smiling.

Gilbert bated the chill by rubbing his hands fervently against Romano's arms, up and down. The warmth only lasted for as long as he did so before stopping, and then Romano felt bare on top of frigid. He was caught between wanting Gilbert to hold him and knowing that he would push him away if he dared.

"So, was I successful in cheering you up?" Gilbert asked.

It wouldn't do either of them any good for Romano to encourage him. He tore away from Gilbert and climbed the stairs. "It's not your responsibility, you know. To make me feel better."

"I don't like seeing you look unhappy," Gilbert said, hurrying after him.

Romano glowered at his shoes. "I always look unhappy."

Romano figured Gilbert should know that about him. He couldn't always be trying to brighten his mood. That was too big a job for anyone. It wasn't that Romano never enjoyed things, but his mind occupied itself with finding endless reasons as to why he shouldn't.

"Well, then," Gilbert said. "You're just going to have to get used to me trying to make you smile."

Gilbert stopped him at the top of the steps, just outside the door to the apartment. Romano shrunk against the wall away from him and kept his eyes downcast. When Gilbert whispered his name this time, Romano realized why he was doing it. He said it like a request, or a warning. He was trying to kiss him. Romano pushed past him and grabbed the doorknob.

"Oh," Gilbert put out his hand, "Romano, wait—"

Romano opened the door and froze, slowly processing what he was seeing in his living room. Why was Feli sitting in Ludwig's lap? Why were they scrambling off the couch and looking so embarrassed? Why was their clothing rumpled? He looked to Gilbert for some answer to the questions running through his mind and saw a sheepish, but blatantly amused grin slapped across his face. It brought back to Romano's mind how Gilbert and his brother had been whispering to each other in the hall before Gilbert had decided to get him off the couch, how determined they'd been that he leave the apartment.

Gilbert and Feli had orchestrated this. This entire night had been a ploy, and Romano had been gullible enough to fall for it. He had never felt more betrayed.

Feliciano attempted to explain as Romano recovered from the initial shock. Romano didn't want to stand there so his brother could spell it out for him and make him look like the idiot he knew he was. He ran straight to his room, ignoring the three voices calling him back, and slammed the door behind him. He couldn't sit, or lie down, his chest was hurting too much for him to even think straight. He buried his face in his hands, because now the tears were coming.

He wanted to hit his head against the wall for crying over something like this. Why was he letting this get to him? He didn't even want Gilbert to like him.

Well...that was a lie...

There was a banging at his door, and Gilbert was shouting for him. That fucking bastard. He acted like he knew Romano so well, yet he didn't realize that the worst thing he could have done to him was fooling him into believing that he cared.

Gilbert came in without permission. Romano should have locked the door.

"Hey, don't just storm off like that." Romano kept his back turned as Gilbert went on. "Look, okay, I wasn't completely honest with you, but...hey..." Romano covered his mouth to stop the sobs from breaking through, but his shoulders wouldn't stop shuddering. Gilbert's voice became concerned. "Hey, are you crying? Why are you crying?"

"Why do you think?!" Romano snapped, casting a glare over his shoulder.

Gilbert frowned apologetically. "I expected you to be a little mad. I didn't mean to make you cry."

He really didn't understand Romano at all.

"You thought I'd be  _'a little mad'_ that you lied about wanting to hang out with me so that our brothers could make out on the couch?!" He was beginning to question every nice thing that Gilbert had ever said to him. Had all of it been just to distract him? That sounded too elaborate, but the floodgates were open now and all the doubt just kept pouring in.

"Is  _that_  what you think?" He knitted his brows together. "I admit, Feli wanted me to get you out of the house so he and my brother could have some time alone together, but I didn't lie about wanting to go out with you tonight."

Romano ignored the way he said,  _"go out with you"_ , because he was far too pissed off. "Yeah, sure," he snarled. "Why should I believe anything you say after you tricked me like that?"

" _Jesus_ ," Gilbert groaned. "What do I have to do to get through to you?"

"What are you—"

He didn't get to finish speaking before Gilbert seized him by the shoulders and brought their lips crashing together. The kiss was so rough and forceful that Romano thought his mouth was going to bruise. It was terrible. He used all his strength to push Gilbert away from him. Gilbert stumbled backward and stared at him, a wounded expression on his face.

"Um," he mumbled awkwardly. "Maybe I should start over."

Romano rolled his eyes at him. "Yeah. Maybe you should start over from outside the door."

"Oh." Gilbert tilted his head in confusion. "Uhh. Okay?" He gave Romano a look before stepping out of the room. Before he had time to turn back around, Romano went forward and closed the door on him, making sure to lock it this time.


	8. Chapter 8

Romano placed some of the blame for how he lusted after Antonio on his grandfather, even if he was dead. It was his fault that Romano had ended up living with Antonio and had grown so close to him. How was Romano supposed to resist that olive skin and those bright emerald eyes when they were constantly there and he had no sure place to escape them? Grandpa should have known better.

After the kiss that had left the incipient gray area in their relationship, Romano had been avoiding being alone with Antonio in the apartment again. He managed a few days, and then it happened. Romano hadn't noticed Antonio was in the apartment, because Antonio had been taking an afternoon nap. When he emerged from his room and they both realized the situation they were in, Romano's mind screamed,  _Where the fuck is Feli?_

Feliciano was out with friends from school and wouldn't be home for a few more hours, and by then it was too late.

Antonio invited Romano to help him prepare supper. It was a good idea to occupy themselves with something other than the thought that this was rather awkward, and cooking would get them to cooperate and clear the air, so Romano agreed. Things started off well; Romano took charge in the kitchen and Antonio teased him for being so meticulous about food. Romano cussed at him, and he laughed it off. Romano was glad that they could work through this, that their relationship wasn't broken.

The first time Romano caught Antonio eyeing his curl, he wasn't sure what to think. Antonio let that stupid hair distract him sometimes with the way it bounced in Romano's stride, or when Romano turned his head, like he was a cat following a string of yarn. The first time Antonio touched it, Romano got a shameful rush, but he dismissed it. It was an accident, Antonio had been reaching for the spice cabinet, Romano told himself. The kitchen wasn't that big, bumping and touching was circumstantial.

_Stuff like that is bound to happen here._

That thought repeated in his head. He realized then that he shouldn't have agreed to help Antonio in the kitchen.

When Antonio grabbed his curl a second time and Romano recognized that he was being intentional, he punched him in the stomach and told him to fuck off. Antonio didn't know what he was doing, Romano didn't talk about his curl or how sensitive it was, but if this kept up things were going to get uncomfortable very quickly.

Antonio didn't reach for it again after that, but the damage was already done. Romano's nerves were overstrung as he stared into the red wine sauce, stirring languidly. His mind weaved fantastical scenarios involving tomato stains, the removal of dirtied clothing, and the exposing of naked flesh. Unbridled imagination gave Romano a perpetual blush that, should Antonio ask about it, he would swear was caused by the heat rising off the stove top.  _Closet pervert_.

He heard a low voice right by his ear asking if the sauce was done, and Romano went weak in the knees. Oh god, Antonio was too close to him. His mouth was dry and he was stuttering, unable to answer.

"Are you okay?"

No, he was not. He was very far from okay. He didn't know how to turn himself off. Romano cursed under his breath. "Why do you have to be so goddamn casual about this shit and make me feel so..." Antonio didn't know what Romano was talking about, until he looked down and saw.

Nothing was said for a while. Antonio was in some sort of daze and Romano could hardly look at him. He couldn't take the way Antonio just stood there, slack-jawed. Romano grabbed the idiot by the collar of his shirt and pulled him in, sticking his tongue into that stupid, beautiful mouth.

Supper was entirely forgotten amidst restless lips and hands. The pang in Romano's heart was mounting. "It hurts..."

"I can make it feel better," Antonio offered.

"Then fucking do it already."

 

* * *

 

As Romano violently whipped what would be bica gallega, he fancied he was beating Gilbert's face instead of eggs and butter. He was still fuming from the events of yesterday.

After having a night to think it over, he'd resolved that he couldn't place the blame entirely on Gilbert. Feliciano had been in on it. He'd probably been the one to come up with the idea and convince Gilbert to go along with it, if Romano knew anything about his bratty brother. So, he and Gilbert had both been a means to further their siblings' relationship, and he couldn't be angry at Gilbert for that. He could, however, be angry about that disgraceful act that had been imposed upon him, that had the pretense of a kiss but definitely wasn't fit to be called as such.

Romano was cooking by himself in the kitchen downstairs, which was only noteworthy because it was the weekend and Feli would normally have a shift. Feliciano had already spoken to him that morning about how he was making great progress with Ludwig and wanted the day off so that they could spend more time together. Romano told him to do whatever he wanted, because if he made him work then he'd have to listen to him pine over the younger German brother all fucking day, and that was much more hellish than opening the shop without his assistance—or, rather, not opening the shop at all.

Romano doubted that Gilbert would be coming to help him out after what had happened, and he'd learned already that he couldn't maintain things on his own. Nonetheless, he cooked up a therapeutic storm, because there was something oddly satisfying about compounding ingredients and watching them churn and bubble at scorching temperatures.

It wasn't a big deal. Romano preferred Gilbert not showing up. The only reason Romano was even in the café instead of the kitchen in their apartment was so he didn't have to see him. They needed a day to take a break from each other.

Unfortunately, Gilbert had the annoying habit of appearing every time Romano didn't want him around, and he wasn't about to break it anytime soon. He came dressed in one of his apparently endless supply of formfitting, button-down shirts and stopped just inside the kitchen. "Hey," he said, sighing and slumping his shoulders. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or freak you out, and I'm sorry. I know I tend to rush into these things. So, just to let you know, I'm going to back off. I'm not looking to humiliate myself again."

Romano hadn't expected Gilbert to give up so easily. It wasn't that he  _wanted_  the bastard to chase after him, but he hardly thought it was fair. Gilbert thought he could get Romano to like him and then decide he didn't want to put the effort forth after all? Now Romano was left with a hopeless crush on the moron, and what was he supposed to do about it?

" _You_?" he asked. "What part of last night was humiliating for  _you_?"

"Um, the part where I tried to kiss you and you pushed me away instantly?"

Romano scoffed. He set his mixing bowl down and leaned against the work table, wiping the grease from his hands on his apron. "If you could call that a kiss. I felt like I was being assaulted by lips and teeth."

"What?!" Gilbert's face was red up to his ears. Romano didn't like the thought that popped into his head, but dammit if that wasn't attractive. "I'm an awesome kisser! You just didn't give me a chance!"

That was true. Romano hadn't given him much of an opportunity. It had all happened so fast. No, wait, that wasn't the issue. The issue was...Romano couldn't remember, exactly. He scrunched his brow and argued regardless. "I'm Italian. I know what a good kiss is. You can't fucking  _attack_  the person with it, especially if it's the first time you're kissing them. You should be slow and sensual."

"I can be slow and sensual," Gilbert said with a pout. Romano gave a derisive laugh. "I can!"

As much as Romano hated his own mind sometimes, he made very poor decisions when it abandoned its function, when his emotions took over. When talk of kissing a good-looking man who was standing right in front of him in probably the nicest clothes he owned, who acted like the only thing he wanted was to get Romano's attention, muddled his brain so that his only active neural impulse caused him to say, "Prove it."

Those two words surprised them both. Gilbert looked Romano over carefully, taking a tentative step towards him. "Are you giving me permission to demonstrate?"

The idea of putting Gilbert's claims to the test was far from unappealing. Romano wanted to be wrong about his initial judgement. He silently cursed Gilbert's piercing eyes and tight shirts. "Yes."

Gilbert, intrigued, took another step. "On you?"

"No, the oven," Romano said with a roll of his eyes. " _Yes_ , on me."

"Are you sure?"

"You can either kiss me or you can get to work."

"Well, I know which one I'd rather do."

He took one final step, and Romano's hips were pressed between him and the cold steel of the table. Romano was nervous now that they were so close. Gilbert's fingertips lightly grazed his cheek and his breath hitched. This was so different from last night, and so unexpected. Gilbert took the slow part of the instruction a little too far with how long it took for their mouths to meet, but when they did butterflies burst from Romano's stomach. Gilbert was unusually gentle...and...soft...

Romano parted his lips in response. The tip of Gilbert's tongue brushed against them. He couldn't believe this. He was trembling.

Gilbert twirled Romano's curl around his finger and brought him to moan, his mouth engulfing the sound. Romano broke away and clamped his jaw shut, mortified. That grin told him that Gilbert had figured out exactly what that hair did to him and was taking the noise he'd produced as vindication. Romano disagreed.

"You cheated."

"It isn't cheating when there aren't any rules."

With that seductive smirk of his, Romano had the urge to violate twenty or so health code regulations with him right there in the kitchen. Romano drew Gilbert back for more, and Gilbert happily obliged. Romano clung to his broad shoulders, unable to feel his legs and afraid he might fall.

"Fratello! I meant to ask—Oh." Romano gave Gilbert a harsh shove and whirled around to see Feli standing in the doorway. "You're busy, so I'll go and—"

"That's okay, Feli!" Gilbert said, his buoyant attitude having fully recovered. "I should go open up shop anyway." He strutted on out the door, ruffling Feliciano's hair on his way.

Romano supported himself against the work table, reeling, breathless. The tingling of his lips reminded him that, yes, that had really happened, he had just kissed Gilbert. He felt like he needed to sit down and take a minute. Feli was still there, looking at him and making that stupid  _"vee"_  sound. "What?"

"Nothing," Feliciano said with a smile. "I'm just happy for you."

Romano wished he could say the same, but all he could think was,  _Now what?_

He had no clue where any of this was going. Gilbert had never explicitly said what he felt or what he was hoping for. What did this mean to him? If Romano had to hazard a guess, he would say nothing.

Romano didn't know much about these things firsthand, but he didn't think Gilbert should be in a state where he was so carefree and open to new romantic experiences, so soon after a relationship. That didn't say anything good about how much he cared for those he got involved with. Gilbert might be a player, or worse. He could be looking for a rebound.

Oh,  _hell_  no. Romano wasn't about to be anybody's rebound.

After Feli had gone, blanking on whatever question he'd wanted to ask, Romano peeked out of the kitchen at Gilbert taking his place behind the register. This was all because of Gilbert's flighty, impulsive nature. That, and because Feli favored his brother, was the only reason he appeared to be interested in Romano. (Romano had not forgotten the way he'd pounced on Feliciano when he'd first arrived.) The fact that he'd also recently lost his job and home was just further evidence of his instability.

As he focused on these qualities, the knot in Romano's chest went away and reality was reestablished. Gilbert was a total loser, and to get tangled up in that wreckage would be disastrous.

Gilbert caught him staring and smiled at him. No customers were dropping in just yet, and the two of them were just waiting for the day to officially begin. Since they were here, Romano ventured out of the kitchen and leaned on the counter beside Gilbert. He wanted Gilbert to know that he was on to him and that he wasn't going to be used.

He started vaguely instead of simply jumping to accusations. That would come soon enough. "So...you packed up and moved to a new city all to escape an ex," he said knowing that there was more to the story than that.

"If you met my ex, you'd understand," Gilbert quipped, looking guilty as soon as the words left him. "I shouldn't have said that."

Romano's slow-burning anger dissolved. It was unusual to see Gilbert acting so serious. "Why did you break up?"

It must have been a very bitter ordeal for him to be so uncomfortable and tight-lipped about the subject. Romano almost wished he hadn't mentioned it, but he wanted to make sense of Gilbert's behavior.

"She was in a car accident," he said after forever.

"Did she die?"

He shook his head. "No. She didn't die. She suffered severe brain injury and was unconscious for days. When she came home, she was...different."

"Different?" Romano asked.

"The accident didn't just affect her physically," he said. "She was angry, all the time, and didn't know how to control it."

"So, you broke up with her?"

"Not at first. I still cared about her, and I wanted to help her get better. As hard as it was, if I couldn't stand by her after she'd been through something so tragic, I felt like that made me a bad person. So, I stayed with her, which was horrible for both of us. We slowly suffocated each other. And then, she broke up with me. She kicked me out of our place. I just grabbed what I could and got out of there."

"That's..." Romano struggled to find the right thing to say. Words were so useless. "Terrible."

Gilbert looked toward the windows where the gray morning light glared through the pane, casting long shadows across the floor. "You know how, when we took Antonio to the airport, I said that I always had to be the one to drive? I hate driving. I can't even stand being in a car after what happened to Elizabeth. But I don't hesitate to get in the driver's seat. Because..." He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess to prove that I can. To not let the fear of what might go wrong control me."

The more Romano learned about Gilbert, the less he understood him. "That really sucks."

He waved a hand. "That's how it goes sometimes. You think you're gonna love someone forever, and then life throws shit in your face and nothing's how you expected it to be." He shot a playful look to Romano for asking so many questions about his love life. "If you're jealous, you don't have to be. I haven't felt that way about Elizabeth for a long time, and we're both better off not being together."

There were a lot of conflicting emotions swimming inside of Romano after hearing about his girlfriend's accident. Sympathy and newfound admiration for Gilbert, perplexity, indignation; envy didn't come into play. "Why the fuck would I be jealous?"

"No reason." He laughed quietly to himself. "But, you wanna know something else?"

"What?" Romano asked.

"The fifth thing from yesterday that I never told you."

He'd forgotten about that until Gilbert brought it up. "You said you were saving it for later."

"Now is later," he said.

It was pointless, and maybe even deceptive, to allow Gilbert to say it, like there was a possibility that he could promote himself and erase Romano's inhibitions. As if things were that simple. "What were you going to tell me?"

"Before I even met you, I liked you."

"That..." Romano stared at him incredulously. "That doesn't make any sense." He couldn't help but wonder in what way and to what degree Gilbert meant that he liked him, though he wasn't sure if he really wanted to know.

"Go ahead, call me stupid."

Romano wasn't going to, but he expected some sort of reasoning behind his confession. "Just...how?"

"Antonio and I kept in touch, you know. After he dropped out of college. Phone calls and messages here and there. Every time he talked about you...you always sounded really interesting, so I was excited to finally meet you."

That explanation didn't make it any less absurd. Romano wasn't interesting. People didn't get excited about meeting him. Maybe Gilbert was stupid after all. And perhaps he'd let his preconceptions and eagerness distort the image he had of Romano now.

"That doesn't count," Romano said, shaking his head. "That says more about you than it does about me."

"I don't know." Gilbert smiled softly. "I think it says something about both of us."


	9. Chapter 9

There wasn't a singular road to becoming a chef. You could go to culinary school, but you didn't have to. You could have your own business, but Romano didn't want to. Or you could get an entry level job at a restaurant to gain experience, and work your way up like most of society.

Technically speaking, Romano already was a chef. He met all the requirements—he was paid to cook. Practically, though, he was in a very forgiving and relaxed environment with his friend being his boss, which wasn't great preparation for the competitive professional world. So, Romano decided to take a class.

"What's that?" Gilbert asked, finding Romano on the couch, looking over his shoulder at the computer in his lap.

"Uh," Romano tried to close the laptop before he saw, "nothing."

"Why do you need to take a cooking class?"

"I don't. I was just thinking...I might want to work in restaurants. Like, for a career." He spoke indifferently, downplaying it. "Going to school would be helpful in getting internships and jobs, and getting certified and stuff."

"Sounds awesome! I think you'll be a great chef, Romano."

"It's just one fucking class. I'm entertaining the idea, is all."

"Still!"

His enthusiasm, while slightly patronizing, as if Romano was a little kid and Gilbert was sticking a golden star on his forehead for his efforts or some shit, still managed to flood him with a pleasant glow. Romano did his best to shut it down.

"I'm not trying to tell you how to live your life or anything, but I think you might be happier if you did stuff like this more often. Taking definitive action, even if you're not sure if you're making the right decision." Antonio popped into Romano's head immediately when Gilbert said that, and Romano knew he was right.

Gilbert and Romano continued talking on the couch for a while. Nothing brought it on, but in the middle of the conversation Gilbert spontaneously lifted Romano's chin and leaned in to capture his lips. Romano stopped him just in time. If he tried he couldn't have explained his reservations to Gilbert, who was understandably confused, but Romano needed to clean up the first mess he'd made before he could even think of what to do about this one.

However, with Gilbert being as persistent as he was, Romano didn't know how long he could fight him.

 

* * *

 

It had taken great determination on Romano's part to avoid discussing what had happened between him and Antonio. For nearly two weeks after the fact, he had spent an abnormal amount of time either outside the apartment or locked in his room. He would go to the park, or to the mall, or to that art museum that Feli liked to drag him to, anything to get out of the house. He and Antonio still worked together, which was terribly awkward, but Romano knew Antonio wasn't about to have this conversation in the café. When he had nowhere else to be but in the apartment with Antonio, Feliciano was usually there. It was good for Romano to spend some quality time with his brother; Antonio certainly wasn't going to talk about this in front of Feli.

Antonio was determined to sort things out, much to Romano's torment. He was always looking at him with this deeply troubled expression and trying to get him alone, and Romano struggled against his efforts. What did Antonio want him to say? That he regretted it? That he dreamt of doing it again? That he hated himself for making such a stupid mistake, that he didn't know what was happening between them, but that he feared he might be falling in love with him? All these things were true, and it was too much and too messy.

There was no way to escape it, though. As soon as Romano stepped into the apartment and heard Antonio shout his name from the kitchen, he knew it was going to happen. He still tried to make it to his room in time, but Antonio cut him off in the hallway.

"We  _have_  to talk," he said. Romano kept his head down, too ashamed to look at him. He pushed past him and ducked into his room, but Antonio followed him inside before he could close the door. "Are you planning on avoiding me forever? Is that what you really want to do?"

Romano retreated to the edge of his room. "No..." He didn't, but he also really didn't want to have this conversation.

Antonio kept a safe and comfortable distance from him and spoke gently. "I don't want you to feel like I took advantage of you."

"I don't," Romano said. With his track record for honesty, he didn't blame Antonio for being doubtful.

"Don't say that if you don't mean it." He took a few steps toward Romano, reaching his hand out as if he wanted to pet Romano's arm consolingly but was afraid to touch him. "I never meant to hurt you."

"I'm not just saying it. It was both our faults that this happened." He finally forced himself to look up. "Let's just accept that it happened and move on."

There was pain in Antonio's eyes. "You want to just forget about it?"

He did. "This doesn't have to change anything."

"It could," Antonio said.

"But it doesn't have to."

"But I want it to."

Romano faltered. "What?"

"I love you, Romano. So much."

Those words reached deeper than anything else that had ever been said to him. Romano knew then that this had gone too far. Somehow, Antonio had fooled himself into believing that he was in love with Romano. Had the sex been that good, to make Antonio say those words to have more? The sex had been incredible, Romano thought, but Antonio's friendship was more important to him than that. It didn't seem that Antonio wanted to revert back to being just friends, though. He'd removed that option from the table.

Antonio was the most important person to Romano. If he lost him over something like this, he didn't know how he would live with himself. Whatever Antonio wanted him to do, he would do it, as long as he wasn't cut out of his life. Right now, Antonio was coming forward and looking very much like he wanted to kiss him. So, Romano threw his arms around his neck and kissed him for all he was worth.

After a moment, Antonio broke away to ask, "Is this your way of saying that you love me too?" Romano told him he needed to stop talking and just fuck him, and that was about as far as they got in the discussion.

 

* * *

 

No alarm went off that morning, and Romano slept much later than he had during the week. Gilbert must have concluded that he was trying to slack off again, because he took it upon himself to be the alarm that woke Romano up so they could go to work. "Gilbert..." Romano groaned, nestling himself into his pillow. "It's Sunday. The café doesn't open on Sundays."

"Why not?" he asked.

"We're Catholic. You can't work on Sundays if you're Catholic."

Gilbert gave a jeering laugh. "You're the worst Catholic I've ever met!"

Romano opened his tired, bleary eyes to glare at him. "How am I a bad Catholic?"

"A good Catholic would probably be getting ready for church right now." Romano had to admit, that was a good point. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd gone to services, or confessed his sins, or done anything remotely religious. It was more habit than faith that made him keep the label. "Also, a good Catholic wouldn't have been making out with me in the kitchen yesterday when he should have been working."

Another valid argument, but one that Romano didn't appreciate. He rolled onto his side, away from Gilbert, and closed his eyes. He was exhausted. Hopefully, Gilbert would take the hint and show himself out.

"Where's Feli?" Gilbert asked.

He muttered under his breath. "He spent the night in his own room with your stupid brother." Romano had been completely against it, but naturally his brother hadn't listened to him.

"Hm," he mused. "Okay, then."

That meant Gilbert was going to leave, Romano thought, but instead of footsteps going out the door he heard the squeaking of the mattress and the rustling of covers. His eyes shot opened and he turned back around to see Gilbert crawling into bed with him. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

"If you're sleeping in, I might as well go back to bed too," he said casually.

"You're not sleeping in my bed!"

Gilbert paid no regard to Romano's protest, lying down beside him and hugging him tightly. Romano's body went rigid in defense against the warmth spreading over him. He could hardly breath, in part because his face was pressed to a firm, immovable chest.

"Gilbert..." he said, muffled by the man's shirt and body. Romano struggled to view him, barely able to see his eyes closed in a neutral expression. "I know you didn't fall asleep that quickly, asshole." There was no response. Everything was still and quiet, save for their breathing and their heartbeats. Romano made a feeble effort to break out of Gilbert's grip and failed. He exhaled uneasily.

He was very nearly crumbling, and at odds with the pleasant feeling that held him together. Maybe he could just regress into sleep and pretend his heart wasn't pounding faster than he thought should be possible without killing him. Hearing Gilbert's heart racing as well was distressing. But Gilbert's breathing, unlike Romano's shaking sighs, was slow and even. Romano narrowed in on that, the soothing rhythm of it, and he gradually relaxed till the closeness didn't bother him so much. He closed his eyes. Ignoring that this was going against everything that he'd planned, they fit together comfortably.

Romano didn't notice how at ease he was like this until he was waking up several hours later.

Gilbert had shifted more towards the edge of the bed, but his arm was slung over Romano's body. Romano could see him clearly now. He looked peaceful. Romano was used to seeing such animated and dramatic faces from Gilbert, but he was rather handsome asleep. Romano admired the way his dark lashes curled against his pale cheeks for a moment before his eyes drifted down to Gilbert's lips, pink and slightly parted.

He doubted that he had to courage to kiss Gilbert while he was unaware like this, but he found himself inching closer. It was tempting. Romano wouldn't be held accountable, because Gilbert would never know. It was very underhanded, though. Romano stopped just a few inches from Gilbert's sleeping face. This wasn't right.

Before he had a chance to move away, Gilbert's eyes opened suddenly, mirroring his surprise. Romano froze. Gilbert grinned perceptively. "Why is your face so close to mine?"

He sprang out from under the covers with a cry of mixed humiliation and frustration. "You're the one who just jumps into other people's beds without permission like that's a perfectly okay thing to do! Bastard! Asking me why I'm close to you when you were practically suffocating me with your stupid muscles earlier! Fuck you!"

"Hey, hey, Romano! I was joking!" Gilbert threw himself on top of him before he could storm off properly, and Romano was squashed between him and the mattress.

"Get off me!"

Writhing and shouting was pointless and only made Gilbert laugh, so Romano punched him in the stomach. Gilbert doubled over with a grunt, but maintained a hold on Romano's wrists. They were in a full-blown wrestling match, Romano trying to get away and Gilbert doing everything he could to hold him there and calm him down. Even as Romano carried on, he became less angry at Gilbert and more absorbed in all the touching and grappling that they were doing on his bed. Suddenly, he was very conscious of the way that Gilbert's hips were pressing against his own. In a moment of panic and a surprising burst of strength, he threw Gilbert off the side. His mistake was forgetting that Gilbert was grasping his arms, and soon he was falling over too.

Gilbert was quick to remount him once they were both down on the floor like he expected Romano to fight him again, but after their rough landing Romano didn't want to continue. He just wanted to lie there and catch his breath, preferably without someone sitting top of him, but Gilbert wasn't moving.

The room was unusually still now that their scuffle was ended. Romano squirmed, the strength he had just a minute ago diminished. Gilbert's face reddened as he took in their compromising position. They shared a look, and in an instant Gilbert was clasping Romano's hands above his head and dipping down to bring their lips together.

Immediate pleasure filled Romano and melted him. "Let go of my wrists."

Gilbert looked at him carefully as if he thought he wanted him to stop. Romano just wanted to do something with his hands to make him feel less useless while he was pinned to the floor. He gripped the back of Gilbert's head, fingers tangling in platinum hair, pulling Gilbert into a deeper kiss that soon escalated to open mouths and tongues and gasping. Burning embers were stirring in his lower stomach. He wanted Gilbert closer. This was good— _amazing_. But not enough.

Gilbert broke for air and then went for the sensitive skin at the curve of Romano's neck. "Mm,  _god_ , you're so hot."

"S-shut up," he hissed, biting back a whine. Fingertips slipped underneath his shirt to stroke his bare skin.

It was happening again. Romano was letting himself get whisked along by something momentary and undefined, getting lost in the thrill of it. He shouldn't be doing this. He should have more restraint than this. He couldn't make the same mistake twice.

Gilbert was alarmed to realize that Romano was sobbing.

Romano stopped touching and coiled around himself. Gilbert sat up to give him space, watching him with a sympathetic, confused look. He sighed. "Two out of the three times that I've actually kissed you, you've kissed me back. Two out of the three times I've kissed you, you were crying. I'm starting to get mixed signals here."

Romano spoke in a broken whisper. "I don't know what you want from me..."

"Huh?"

He sat up and looked fixedly at Gilbert, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. " _Tell me_  what you want from me."

Gilbert blinked. "I...I thought I was being pretty obvious with my intentions, but..."

"Don't assume things with me. You can't do that shit. When it comes to this kind of stuff, I'm just...I'm not good at any of this. You have to tell me, very clearly, what you want."

"Okay," Gilbert said amiably. He took Romano's hands in his. "I think we both really like each other, and I think we should start dating."

"Um," was the only response Romano could manage to start.

The way he so brazenly asked the question was mismatched with the color in his face. "Be my boyfriend?"

Boyfriend? That word sounded so foreign. Nobody had ever asked Romano to be their boyfriend before. The reason was easy to understand. Romano, without a doubt, would be the worst boyfriend in the world.

Who in their right mind would want to date him? He had nothing to offer in a relationship. Nothing desirable, anyway. And why would he want to put himself in a situation where he was only going to get hurt?

 _"Boyfriend"_ , or  _"girlfriend"_ , was a flimsy contract between two people who weren't convinced that they could stand each other past a couple of months. It was a cycle of slowly giving yourself away, piece by fractured piece. Romano understood the theory of it, because nobody wanted to jump into the bigger commitment that followed before the trial run, but that did nothing to make it sound more appealing.

Romano knew what would happen if he said yes—he did consider saying yes, for a split second. They would start dating. Romano would make the mistake of opening himself up over time. Gilbert would discover that his uptight, uneasy, foulmouthed personality wasn't him being coy, that he was simply an asshole. Gilbert would grow to resent him. They'd have a terrible break-up. Gilbert would move on. Romano wouldn't.

"No," Romano said, taking back his hands. "I can't..."

"What do you mean you can't?"

 _I mean, you're insane for asking me to be your boyfriend. I'm not the kind of person people want to date. I'm a liar, I'm overemotional, I'm unsociable, I'm never confident or secure with myself, I fuck up most things that I touch, and I'll never know why you keep trying to be close to me._  "I'm not ready to be in a relationship."

"When do you think you'll be ready?"

Romano hesitated. "I don't know."

"That's okay," Gilbert said with a smile. "I've got a little time."

Romano's heart ached to hear him say that. He should have told him that it was pointless to wait for him, to try and break down his defenses. He should have told Gilbert that he wasn't going to find what he was looking for. Romano opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't say anything.

He hated when things turned out wrong because he couldn't bring himself to say what was really on his mind.


	10. Chapter 10

He hadn't noticed it before, but now that Romano knew of Gilbert's aversion towards driving it was very apparent in his manner. His expression was grim and his posture rigid as he sat behind the steering wheel, which he gripped so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His eyes never strayed from the road. The ride was smooth—from practice rather than ease, Romano suspected. He told Gilbert that he could stop. He offered to switch places. Gilbert replied with a curt, " _No_."

Gilbert circled around the airport to avoid being yelled at by security officials while Romano went inside to find Antonio. He stood outside the baggage claiming area, away from the pockets of other people distributed throughout, scanning every face in search of olive skin and mussy chocolate hair. He didn't have to wait long before he saw his friend rushing towards him and waving.

"Roma!" Antonio exclaimed, jumping him and hugging his neck. "I missed you!"

Romano refrained from embracing him completely, awkwardly patting the taller man's shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, let's get going," he said. He skillfully dodged when Antonio went in for a kiss. "Don't."

"Why?" Antonio asked innocently.

"Because..."

Romano had determined to finally confront Antonio while they still had a chance to salvage their friendship, so they couldn't go around kissing and hugging like before. Things could return to normal if they just talked things through for once and established clear boundaries. Romano would be relieved of the torturous burden he'd been carrying and no one would ever have to find out what a depraved person he secretly was. This was hardly the time or place to have such a discussion, though.

"I have a cold. Don't want you to catch it," he finished at last. He hoped that the pitiful lie would at least keep Antonio from doing anything in front of Gilbert or Feli till he could find the proper time to tell the truth.

"I'm gone a week and you get a cold?" Antonio teased. "You're such a kid."

Romano jutted out his lips in disdain. "No I'm not."

He half expected Antonio to reprimand him for not taking better care of himself, but it didn't happen. Instead, Antonio squished his cheeks between his hands and said, " _Aww_ , I love your cute pouty face."

Antonio always forgot that Romano didn't like him touching his face. If things had been different, Romano would have cussed at him and pushed him away. He found that impossible now considering what Antonio had just come back from, what he was undoubtedly still suffering from while refusing to show it. Moreover, Romano was remembering how much he liked Antonio's warm hands touching him.

"You haven't called me cute in a long time," he said.

"I stopped since you didn't like it," Antonio gave a shy smile, "but after being gone for a week I couldn't help myself."

Romano stared up at him. "Why would you think I didn't like it?"

"Every time I called you cute you would either tell me to shut up or punch me. Or both."

"That doesn't mean I don't like it."

He hadn't expected Antonio to need that explained to him. Sure, he could be dense, but there were some things he knew instinctively, and Romano wasn't always able to tell what was obvious and what Antonio took the wrong way.

Now that they’d cleared up that misunderstanding, Antonio was openly enthusiastic. "If you really like it, I'll call you cute every day from now on!"

Romano looked away, flustered. "That's going overboard..."

"Every other day!"

"Idiot," he grumbled halfheartedly under his breath. He turned towards the exit. "Come on, let's go find Gilbert."

On the ride back, while Gilbert and Antonio chatted in the front of the car, the glaring realness of Romano’s predicament unnerved him. These two were both going to be in the apartment, at the same time, for however long Gilbert and his brother remained with them. Gilbert hadn't made any advances since Romano had rejected him yesterday, and it didn't seem likely that he'd want to flaunt their failed almost-romance, so Romano wasn't worried about that. The real concern was Antonio.

Romano wished the circumstances would've had Antonio in a better frame of mind. He would go back in time and have this conversation months earlier if he could. The only comforting thought in all of this was that they'd never invested. Their attachment was still separate from their physical relationship. If this was a break-up, then Romano wouldn't be able to have this conversation. Such as things were, it would be an awkward, unfortunate, but necessary end to a temporary arrangement. Which, admittedly, sounded a lot like a break-up, but wasn't the same thing.

They loved each other—but they weren't _in_ love. There was no reason to get caught up in emotion. There were no ties to sever, because nothing had ever officially begun. This _wasn't_ a break-up.

Romano watched Antonio out of the side-view mirror. His lips turned up in a perfunctory smile as he listened to Gilbert prattle on. He was quiet. The more Romano thought about how he could possibly bring up the subject delicately the tighter his chest became, the more the lump in his throat swelled.

Strictly speaking, he wasn't about to break-up with Antonio, but it sure as shit felt like he was.

Romano disconnected, his mind roaming naturally during the car ride until they were pulling up in front of the café. Everything felt tightly constrained, smaller so now than ever before, once they went inside. Romano was dismissing the idea of spontaneous claustrophobia and only caught enough of Gilbert's sentence to know that he'd started telling Antonio about how they'd managed the café while he was gone, much to Antonio's surprise.

"It was actually pretty hilarious watching him behind the register," Gilbert told Antonio. "He was trying to run the whole thing alone, but he's so timid with customers and I couldn't bear to watch him. So, I saved him."

Romano delivered a sharp fist to Gilbert's shoulder and spoke up for the first time since they'd left the airport. "I'm not _timid_ , asshole!"

Gilbert laughed boisterously, unfazed by the blow. "That's more like it!"

Romano was thankful that Gilbert could talk and joke with him easily despite everything. He'd felt guilty, believing he'd led Gilbert on though he'd tried not to, but seeing Gilbert take it in stride gave him hope that they could move past all of that and be friends.

"But Antonio, you should really think about giving this guy a raise with how hard he worked last week."

"Yeah, well," Romano muttered, shuffling his feet. "You were...pretty helpful."

Gilbert smiled. "It wasn't all that bad working with you. I think we make a pretty good team."

"Uh." It was a benign statement. Romano groped for an equally non-suggestive response. "Yeah. I guess we do."

Antonio's mouth puckered to one side as he looked around the café. That was when Romano considered that running the shop in his absence might come across as a blatant and insulting disregard of Antonio's ownership, rather than a dutiful labor. When Antonio finally commented on it, there was no anger in his voice. Just confusion. "Why did you do it?"

"Wait," Gilbert said, "you didn't know?"

He shook his head, his stare fixed on Romano. "I didn't ask him to keep the shop open because it's too hard for one person to do by themselves."

"You used to run it by yourself before I dropped out of school and started working for you," Romano pointed out.

"That was different."

"Why's that?" he asked sarcastically.

"Because, it's my business. I'm responsible for it. You're not."

Romano's bitterness didn't seem to register with Antonio, but Gilbert stood by, glancing uncertainly between the two of them. He had no idea where any of this was stemming from. It was just as well that there were a lot of things he wouldn't know about.

It was late in the day already, and Antonio had no intention of opening the café. The three of them went upstairs. Ludwig and Feli were home, the former reading a book on the couch and the latter somewhere out of sight. Inside the apartment, Romano felt even more constricted.

He secluded himself in his room to see if that would help, but it didn't. He sat on the edge of the bed, stalling till the anxiety subsided. Antonio came after him shortly. Romano thought maybe he finally wanted to talk about what he was going through and had come to him for comfort and support. He went towards him when he came into his room, not prepared for what happened next. No sooner had Antonio closed the door behind him than he grabbed Romano and forced his tongue inside his cheek.

Romano managed to get away just long enough to bark, "What _the_ _fuck_ are you doing?" Antonio was on him again in no time, muffling Romano's protests with his kiss and holding him still. Romano clenched his fists weakly against his chest.

"I don't care if I catch your cold," Antonio whispered. "I just had—" he kissed roughly, "—the worst week of my life." His lips trailed along Romano's jaw. "And right now—" he nibbled an earlobe, sending a shiver through Romano's body, "I just want to forget everything."

"Dammit," Romano whined. "You can't bury emotional pain with sex." It was the most hypocritical thing he'd said all week.

Antonio purred against his neck, tracing his fingers along the muscles of his back. Romano hated how fucking powerless he felt in moments like this. That, ironically, was what gave him the strength to push away. Antonio balked at the fierce glare in Romano's eyes and staggered backward.

"I'm not going to have sex with you!"

"Oh," Antonio said, disappointed.

"Is that all you can say?! Fucking _'oh'_?!"

"I mean, okay," he amended, taken aback by Romano's outrage. "I mean, we don't have to if you're not in the mood."

Romano brought his voice down as he tried to explain that this was more than a passing temper, though his thoughts and emotions were still turbulent. He didn't want everyone in the apartment to overhear this discussion. Distancing himself from Antonio and staring down at the floor, he struggled to speak what was on his mind as clearly as he could so that Antonio would be sure to understand. When Antonio asked what was wrong, he said, "Why don't we talk?"

"We talk all the time."

"Not about important things."

It wasn't as if Romano knew nothing about his best friend. He knew that Antonio's favorite color was red. That he loved the guitar and had started learning when he was fourteen. Romano remembered when he would bring the instrument to their house and play for him and his brother. One of Antonio's favorite cities was Barcelona, which he'd visited as a kid before he emigrated from Spain. He'd fallen in love with Gaudi architecture. Antonio liked spring best out of all the seasons because it was mild and sunny. Like him.

Romano knew every facial expression, every little quirk in Antonio's repertoire. The way his ears raised and his nose crinkled when he laughed. None of these things dispelled his uncertainty. There was still something in the way that kept them drifting apart.

He asked the question before taking the time to process it. "Who was your first kiss?"

Antonio cocked his head. "How is that important?"

"I want to know."

His smile was crooked, nonplussed. "Emma," he said. "That was her name. She and I used to be close in high school."

"Why don't I know her?"

"I haven't seen her in years."

"You've never so much as mentioned her."

"It was a _decade_ ago." He searched Romano's face, his brows knitting together. "What is this really about?"

"Why don't you talk about stuff like that?"

He shrugged. "No real reason, I just don't think about it."

It was possible that Antonio was past the age of being nostalgic for what were the best years of adolescence for many, but Romano felt like there should have been mention of it at some point. Was Antonio really that unmindful, or was this a safeguard?

 _Maybe_ , Romano thought, _I'm just being selfish again._

"I'm...really confused," Antonio said after a long while. "I don't understand why you'd be interested in that. You wouldn't know what I was talking about, you didn't go to my school. Besides, didn't you hate high school?"

"Well, _yeah_ , but..." Romano didn't know any more if Antonio had always been this closed off from him, if their friends-who-sometimes-fuck setup had contaminated their relationship more than he'd thought, or if it really was all in his head. What he was certain of was that, whatever their friendship had been reduced to, it wasn't satisfying. "I thought I was close to you, so..." He didn't want sex in lieu of intimacy, and this really did have to end.

"Roma," Antonio murmured. "You're the closest person to me. You know me, I have a one-track mind. And maybe I am a little private in my own way, but you should know by now that the café, you, and Feli are what I consider to be most important in my life."

When Antonio tried to kiss him again, Romano furiously shoved him back. He shouted, his exasperation overriding his concern for those who might hear him, "Why do you keep doing that?!"

"Because I love you," Antonio said plainly.

"Why do you keep saying that?!"

"Because it's _true_!" Romano shrunk back when Antonio, as he did so rarely that Romano nearly forgot he was capable, lost his patience. "It's always been true, and I want to tell you! Why are you getting angry?!"

The ignorance of that question emboldened Romano. "How the fuck do you think it makes me feel when you always want to sleep with me and tell me that you love me but you don't want to actually be with me?! I don't even know what this is anymore!"

Antonio visibly stiffened. Romano could see the wheels turning as he, slow as ever, realized what was causing this rift. Hesitantly, he asked, "What do you mean, 'this'?"

"I mean _this_!" Romano gestured between them. " _Us_! What am I to you? Am I your friend? Your fucking charge? Your fuckbuddy? What am I?!"

His expression clouded. "Um...I guess, uhh..."

That was the worst possible response he could have given. The welling tears stung like sand and blurred Romano's vision. "You have no fucking idea what you're doing, do you?!"

"I'm sorry," he said, eyes wide. "I'm just surprised that you want to talk about this now."

He shifted his weight around before sighing and moving to the bed, slumping down on the edge. Romano stayed standing in front of him. His heart thudded as he braced himself for what was coming. Antonio's chin fell to his chest. His dark bangs shaded his face, hiding his eyes.

"I never meant for things to get like this," he said. "I only wanted you to let me in. I always felt like you were still closing yourself off from me, and I didn't know how to get you to see how I felt about you. It was so frustrating for me, and when things kept escalating I was just hoping that you'd grow to love me back. I didn't know how to get around your barriers, and because you're afraid of commitment—"

Romano's temper flared. "Don't make this my fault!"

"I'm sorry!" he cried. "I didn't mean it like that!"

Romano knew it was true, that he held back because he was afraid, but he still didn't like that Antonio had said it. And who was he to talk about commitment? Even Gilbert had the decency to ask someone to be their boyfriend before sleeping with them. "You're afraid of commitment, too!"

"I was afraid of _rejection_. Not commitment," Antonio said firmly.

"You..." Romano lost his words for a moment. "You were afraid I would reject you?"

That pained expression that Romano hated so much was etched on his face again. The last thing that Romano ever wanted to do was hurt Antonio. "You couldn't look me in the eyes for hours after I first told you that I loved you," Antonio said.

Romano's excuse was a weak one. "I thought you were just saying that to get in my pants."

"I'd already gotten into your pants," Antonio reminded him. "I didn't need to tell you that I loved you to do that. And do you really think I would _lie_ about something like that? I've never lied to you, Romano. Not once."

He paused a second.

"Except for maybe that time when you were, like, ten and you asked me what 'tienes un condón?' meant."

Romano flushed, remembering the incident. "You were a terrible influence on my childhood."

Antonio laughed modestly. Bit by bit, Romano's stern font softened and he cracked a smile in return.

It had never been just about sex; the _"casual"_ part of their relationship was an illusion. Romano had known Antonio for so long that of course they had a connection beyond physical desire. That was the whole reason Romano was frightened. For all they'd been through Romano had striven to be the less devoted one, and yet, with how much he cared for Antonio, he couldn't imagine how anything might compare to it.

"You were really afraid that I was going to reject you?" Romano asked, still trying to wrap his mind around it.

Antonio's mouth twitched upwards in a cheerless simper. "Wouldn't you have rejected me, though?"

If Antonio had asked before their chance at a relationship had become so thoroughly tainted, even as cowardly as Romano was, he wouldn't have dreamed of refusing him.

"No," he said. "I wouldn't have."

Romano thought the exclusively past-tenseness of his words was apparent enough, and it took him a moment to realize why Antonio lit up in response. Even then, he was so goddamn radiant, more so than he'd been in a long time, that Romano found himself unable to correct the misunderstanding.

Antonio wasted no time in throwing open the door and proclaiming for everyone in the apartment to hear that he and Romano were a couple. Romano heard his younger brother shouting something from his room, but he didn't pay attention to what he was saying. Gilbert was just in the hallway. He'd frozen in place when he heard the news and was now staring back and forth between Antonio and Romano, until he stopped and his eyes rested solely on Romano.

If looks could cut like knives, the look that Gilbert gave Romano would have killed him.


	11. Chapter 11

The words fell gracelessly out of his mouth. "I had sex with Antonio. More than once. A lot, actually."

Romano had been trying to tell Gilbert this since Antonio had announced that they were an item, but it was difficult to talk to Gilbert alone—or at all, since he was ignoring Romano's existence now. That sort of treatment from him had come as quite a shock. It pissed Romano off.

The sleeping arrangements in the apartment had changed because of the recent developments in relationships. Feliciano and Ludwig were now sharing Feli's room. They'd done that a few times already, and Romano's approval was no one's concern. Romano was moved into the main bedroom with Antonio, which left the other room to Gilbert. Gilbert had been just about to go to sleep in Romano's room. Romano, acting like he needed to retrieve something important, slipped in after him and closed the door. Finally able to speak to Gilbert in private, he wasted no time in getting the truth out, like he'd been meaning to for the past several days. Gilbert looked like he was going to retch.

"Boundaries," he stressed. "How about you _don't_ tell me about the sex you and your boyfriend have? _Ever._ "

Romano was close to correcting him and had to remind himself that, yes, Antonio was his boyfriend now. He still wasn't used to hearing those words. "I meant _before_ he was my boyfriend."

"What?" He spared Gilbert the details, but Romano explained what the complications of his relationship with Antonio had been before the German brothers had entered the picture. The more he divulged, the more disturbed Gilbert became. "How long has this been going on?"

"Umm..." Romano droned, trying to remember. Looking back, the escalation of events spanned over years and was difficult to track.

"THAT LONG?"

"No! Not _that_ long." Romano flushed. "We didn't start sleeping together until a couple of months ago."

Maybe, though, this had been inevitable from the start.

If it were even possible, Romano had been worse than he naturally was after his grandpa had died. He rarely spoke or smiled, he was always angry. He had moments when he'd just sit for hours and refuse to acknowledge his brother or Antonio should they try to snap him out of his stupor. He failed his classes that year, and anything outside the confines of his room held no interest for him. The primary thing inside those empty walls that he clung to was sleep. But—as far as his brother knew, anyway—Romano never cried.

Feliciano was very open in his mourning. If he needed to let out his tears, he did. If he needed someone to talk to, he would grab Romano or Antonio for support. Romano felt like he should be the one to remain strong because of this, so he buried everything. Feliciano was too blinded by his own grief to see how Romano was suffering. It was Antonio who noticed.

Romano pushed Antonio away for the entire first year that they lived with him while Antonio did his best to get him to open up. In that time, Feliciano was able to resolve and move past their grandfather's death, but Romano still had deep wounds that weren't healing. He marched on, pretending that they weren't there.

As callous as Romano was to Antonio when they first started living with him, Antonio responded with equal or greater kindness. He had no reason to do so, except that he could tell Romano needed someone there for him as well. And he was, always there, despite Romano's claims that he didn't want or need his sympathy.

Things lasted like that up till the anniversary of their grandpa's death, when Feliciano went to visit the grave and Romano did not. He said he'd forgotten what day it was. His little brother was disappointed in him. Outwardly, Romano was unmoved, but when he thought he was home by himself he let it pour out onto a pillowcase. Antonio found him crying that day. Romano tried to get him to leave by screaming and cussing at him, but Antonio stayed. He broke the boy down with a warm embrace and whispered soothingly to him as Romano soaked both their shirts with his tears.

It was a natural progression from that point on as Antonio continued being very loving towards Romano, who tried and failed to resist him. They'd grown much closer by the time they moved into their current home and Antonio opened his café, though Romano didn't call Antonio his friend. When Romano dropped out of school and Antonio employed him, they started spending nearly all their time together. Antonio's affection grew increasingly obvious by the day, and Romano enjoyed feeling like he was taken care of.

As for everything that happened after, for all their walls as they needed to remain close to each other, Romano really should have seen it coming.

"Why are you telling me this?" Gilbert asked with a stony expression.

Romano didn't want him to know just how afraid he'd been when Gilbert had started avoiding him. It was so hard for him to get close to people, and losing someone was always painful. He hoped that Gilbert would still consider them being friends as an option. "I told you I didn't want to be in a relationship, and then the very next day I got in a relationship. I thought you deserved some explanation," he said. "I honestly didn't expect this to happen."

Gilbert studied his face carefully. His eyes narrowed. "You don't seem very happy."

"I never do," Romano said offhandedly. He wasn't _un_ happy that he and Antonio were together, but there were more than a few things that put any celebration on hold.

Gilbert didn't let the self-depreciating remark pass. "Yeah, you do," he said. "I've seen you."

Romano's eyes fell to the floor. "Um. There's...one other thing I wanted to tell you."

Antonio had confessed the day after he'd returned that he planned to use part of his inheritance to travel back to Spain. A weekend was really all it was. He'd spent so much time with his relatives and had put so much energy into the responsibility he faced that he hadn't been to visit the vineyard where his father had retired to. He wanted to spend some time there before the property was sold and he wouldn't have a chance. He'd asked Romano to come with him.

It was strange to think so, what with the somber nature surrounding the trip, but Romano couldn't help but feel like it was a romantic getaway.

"Well," Gilbert said unenthusiastically. "Have fun."

Romano wanted to tell him that this had all just been a huge misunderstanding. This wasn't going to work out. Something would happen to ruin everything, because that's just how things went. "I..." He didn't know how to get the words out. "I can't do this."

"What are you talking about? You're his boyfriend now. Boyfriends do shit like that."

He shook his head. "No," he said in a trembling voice. _"I can't do this._ "

There was no point in trying if it was all going to be for nothing. Antonio was going to eventually realize what a terrible mistake he'd made, and then what would happen to them? They wouldn't be friends anymore. Working together would be terrible. Living together would be unbearable. Romano had everything to lose in this situation.

Gilbert's eyes flickered as he realized what Romano was saying. His eyebrows knitted together and his lips pursed in consideration.

 _Yes,_ Romano thought, _tell me what to do, because I have absolutely no fucking idea. Help me fix this. Please._

"You're freaking out over nothing," Gilbert said. "I've only seen you two together for a couple of days and I can see it. If you haven't realized by now how much Antonio loves you, then you're an idiot."

Romano faltered. "Um...that..."

_Wasn't what I was expecting._

"You're welcome. Idiot." He sat down on the bed. "Now get out and let me go to sleep."

The living room was empty when Romano looked out there. He lingered in the hallway. There were voices coming from inside Feliciano's room. The door stood ajar, and Romano pushed it in. Ludwig sat in a desk chair across from Feli on the edge of the bed. They were engrossed in intimate conversation. Feliciano looked unusually serious.

Romano averted his eyes and gave a slight cough. They acknowledged him with a casual glance and he asked if either of them knew where Antonio was. Ludwig told him that he believed he'd gone downstairs. Romano left to go find him, and Feliciano followed.

"Isn't this great?" Feli said, his bubbly self once more. Romano stopped in the living room, not wanting his brother to follow him into the café. "You can double-date with me and Ludwig! We can have a picnic, or we can play football, or we can go dancing. Oh! There's a carnival in town! Let's go to the carnival! It'll be so much fun!"

"You're oddly excited by all of this," Romano observed. "You don't think this is weird?"

Feliciano bobbed his head back and forth uncertainly. "I was kind of surprised. But then again, I kind of wasn't."

"That's confusing."

"Your relationships are confusing. It's difficult to keep track of them." Feliciano laughed and quickly added, "But it's none of my business. I don't care if you get back together with Antonio. I always thought you two were good together."

" _Back_ together? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You were dating him before Gilbert, right?"

"How do you even—" Romano pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, first off, Gilbert and I were never a thing. And you _live_ with us! How the hell could you think Antonio and I were dating? Did we _act_ like we were dating, idiot?"

He stared off to the side. "Well, you were always together and being all cutesy, and I saw you holding hands once, and you were sleeping together a lot. I mean, I didn't want to ask about it, but—"

" _Wait, you KNEW_?"

"I-I didn't want to bring it up because I knew you'd be embarrassed about it!" He threw his hands up defensively. "Please don't yell at me!"

Romano buried his face in his hands and screamed.

" _CAZZO_ , FRATELLINO, _NO_! DIO! CHE PALLE! SANTO CAZZO MADRE DI CRISTO!"

Feliciano cried out his apologies, which Romano couldn't fully drown out with his cursing, though he tried. Romano flew down the stairs into the café. His brother didn't bother going after him.

 

* * *

 

The café hadn't opened since Antonio's return; it was to be expected that Antonio would want a little time to himself and not have to worry about work. As of then, Antonio was going through the walk-in and dry storage and doing inventory to see what they would need to restock on. It was an extensive list, since Romano and Gilbert had barely lasted through the week with what they had.

Romano stood in the doorway as Antonio checked over the grocery list. It was gnawing at him, that he was in a relationship that he'd never actually agreed to be in, and yet he was unable to say anything. How was he supposed to break up with someone who was in mourning, who loved him so much, and after only a few short days of being with them?

When Antonio noticed that he was there, he said, "I'm still baffled by why you wanted to run the café on your own."

"Well..." Romano lowered his eyes and kicked at invisible stones. "I wanted to help you somehow. You wouldn't even talk to me about how you were feeling. I wanted to do _something_ , but..." Whether Antonio thought so or not, whether he would admit it or not, he sometimes needed someone to take care of him, just like anyone else. Romano wanted to be that someone for him.

"Roma," Antonio said, inspecting him. Romano silently gazed back. The two of them were soldered together in the dusky light, and Antonio looked nothing if not perfect.

For god's sake, this was _Antonio_. Romano had been dreaming of him, obsessing over him, for so long. If Romano had any chance of getting his own love story, it was with him. The way their relationship had developed may not have been how relationships normally went, and maybe Romano had deviated in his uncertainty, but they could still do this. Romano wanted so badly for them to be happy together.

"You've been acting so strange lately."

Romano could neither acknowledge nor deny that. Without another word, he rushed up to Antonio and clung to him.

"What's this?" Antonio asked delightedly. "You're being so sweet." He breathed deeply, and Romano could feel him smiling. "I'm sorry for how these past couple of months have been, but things are going to be better now," and Romano had hope that those words were true.


	12. Chapter 12

"No, I _get_ that café is Spanish for coffee. _Everybody_ gets it, that's my point." Gilbert shook his head wearily. "It's a little boring, is all I'm saying."

Antonio shrugged. "I think it's apt."

"Hm. Okay, I'll give you apt." He stared disapprovingly at the sign in the window. "Expresso Express."

"Sounds a little uninspired."

"What about Café Nervosa?"

"Isn't that from _Frasier_?"

He scratched the side of his face and stared at the ceiling, humming as he thought. "Jacked Up?"

Antonio giggled. "I like that one."

Antonio had returned from Spain vague and distant and very much unlike himself, but he was getting better. Being around those he cared about was how he healed. He was beginning to laugh and smile like he used to. After a few days of resting from his trip he was alright with opening the café again. Romano was ready to work hard to lessen his burden, but he wasn't the only one who came downstairs early that morning.

He didn't find out till he met the two of them there in the dining area, because Antonio had neglected to tell him beforehand. He'd not only chosen to pay Gilbert for the work he'd put in the week he was away. No. He'd _hired_ Gilbert.

"I've been meaning to find someone else to help out, and since he's looking for work and has already been trained it just seemed perfect," was Antonio's explanation.

As if sensing Romano's apprehension, Gilbert added, "It's only temporary. Till I can get a different job. Shouldn't be for that long."

This wasn't just the worst idea that Antonio had ever had, this was Romano's nightmare. He didn't know how he was supposed to figure out how to be a decent boyfriend to Antonio with Gilbert constantly there, making every show of affection seem ostentatious. Or _worse_ , ambivalent.

Romano had turned down Gilbert's offer before he'd started dating Antonio, and he'd explained why things had turned out like this. Romano had done the right thing. He couldn't let Gilbert affect his relationship with Antonio now. This was going to be weird and probably a little awkward at the start, but things could work out. Romano had to be strong. Antonio deserved a good boyfriend, and, goddammit, Romano was going to be the best fucking boyfriend ever.

He was stirring a pot of ajo de sopa while wondering if he should buy Antonio some flowers, if Antonio even liked flowers, if so what kind of flowers he should get, and how much were flowers anyway, until he decided against it. Antonio would probably forget to water the stupid things and let them die. They'd be thrown out sooner or later, and it just seemed like a waste.

The door to the kitchen was thrown open, pulling Romano away from his thoughts. He glanced up to see Gilbert standing there looking back at him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I'm on break," Gilbert said. "What, I can't come in here and talk to you?"

He still wanted to talk to him. He didn't hate him. Romano felt all sorts of light and fluttery to know that. Gilbert stopped beside him and put his elbow on the edge of the steel table. He poked Romano's side, making him spasm.

"Hey. Sorry for ignoring you for a while. I just..."

 _"Needed time to think things over and lick my wounds,"_ Romano imagined for him as his voice trailed off. For all Gilbert's ego, the holes that punctured it were self-evident. "Stop apologizing and acting like a kicked puppy. It doesn't suit you," Romano said. He much preferred the overconfident dork who talked and laughed too loudly over this Gilbert.

"Don't get all haughty with me, I'm not sniveling here." He jabbed Romano's side again with vengeance. "But okay."

Romano brandished a wooden spoon. "Do you want me to fucking smack you? Stop poking me."

"Aw, come on. You should be nicer to me," Gilbert said tongue-in-cheek.

"That _was_ me being nice. If I was being mean, I wouldn't have asked, I would have just hit you."

"Well, that's probably true."

Footsteps came from the stairway, and they turned in unison to see Ludwig enter the kitchen. Romano's mood immediately soured.

Feliciano had said at one point that Romano would like Ludwig if he actually took the time to get to know him. Romano begged to differ. He didn't have to get to know the guy who was hooking up with his little brother, who peered stoically at the world through cold blue eyes, to be sure that he hated his guts. He was glad when Ludwig said he was going to be gone for a while.

"I'm going to the school to talk to someone about my classes before the new term starts," Ludwig said. He asked Gilbert for the keys to the car, and Gilbert tossed them to him. "I should be back soon." Before leaving, he asked when Gilbert was going to start looking for a job.

"I _have_ a job, baby brother. See? I'm wearing an apron!" He flapped the apron skirt against his slacks for emphasis.

"I meant something more long-term. Hopefully a job that pays a little better if we're going to be able to get an apartment." Ludwig had been anxious to leave since they'd arrived, because he didn't want to impose. Gilbert, on the other hand, quite enjoyed the arrangement. He treated it as if it was an extended sleepover party. Romano hadn’t given their eventual departure much thought in the past few days.

He hadn't forgotten that these living arrangements weren't permanent, but he'd stopped anticipating the day that Ludwig and Gilbert would leave. The prospect had turned bittersweet. They couldn't stay forever, Romano knew. There simply wasn't enough room for them. It was much better for everyone if they got their own place, and Romano looked forward to not having to see Ludwig every day. On the other hand, he wasn't so enthusiastic about Gilbert leaving.

"Yeah. Okay. I'll look into that," Gilbert said. He was quick to change the subject. "Hey, where's Feli-cakes? Isn't he supposed to be working?"

The last school term had ended, and, yes, Feliciano _was_ supposed to helping around the café more until he went back to school. It was no surprise when Ludwig said he believed he was still upstairs sleeping, though. This always happened. When he actually concentrated on something, Feliciano was a diligent and obedient worker. It just took more effort than should have been necessary to get him off his ass and focused.

Gilbert couldn't resist the opportunity for a lewd comment that made both Ludwig and Romano uncomfortable. "Wore him out, did you?"

Murder, Romano thought, was looking very appealing. He could kill Gilbert in the most painful way, frame his stupid brother for it, and not regret a thing.

"I'd really rather not talk about this. Especially with Romano here," Ludwig said, and the implicit way that he did so made something inside Romano's brain snap.

"You fucking bastard!" he yelled. "What have you been doing with my brother?!"

"They were sharing a bed, what did you think they were doing?" Gilbert asked.

This had been bound to happen. Romano hadn’t prepared himself, though, and it pissed him off that Ludwig had taken his brother's innocence in Romano's own home. This was an offense to their hospitality, and someone was going to be fucking sorry.

Ludwig's response took him by surprise. "You can relax. I've never touched your brother."

Gilbert stared. " _Huh?_ "

"That's a fucking lie!" Romano said. "You think I don't remember walking in on you two sucking each other's faces off?! That's a permanent scar in my memory!"

The reminder embarrassed Ludwig. "Well, yes, there was that, but beyond that, I meant."

"Certainly not from lack of opportunity, the kid jumps into bed with you every chance he gets," Gilbert said.

Romano shook his wooden spoon at Gilbert. "You! Stop encouraging him!"

He paid no attention. "What's the problem?"

"There isn't a problem. Can we drop this now?"

Ludwig didn't wait for Gilbert to say anything further. Keys in hand, he turned away and walked out the back door. Gilbert sighed despairingly. "There's a problem. I expected them to be doing it like rabbits by now."

"That's disgusting," Romano said with a scowl. "And stay out of it."

"You just assume I'm going to intervene?" He was smiling in a way that didn't give Romano much confidence that he wouldn't.

"You're making a face."

"What face? This is my face."

"I know that face." He put his hands on his hip. "It's your _'I'm going to enjoy meddling with something that's none of my business'_ face."

Gilbert's lips pursed. "Clunky," he said, considering the name. "But sweet."

 

* * *

 

Feli came down to work late with some excuse that Romano didn't really care to hear, seeming perfectly fine. Romano studied his brother closely as they worked side by side in the kitchen, but there were no woeful murmurs or droopy frowns to indicate that anything was wrong with him. There was no way his brother was that good of an actor. He wore his heart on his sleeve, so if something was wrong he'd express his feelings openly. Though, Feliciano was an idiot and may not even realize it if there was a problem with his relationship.

Romano had always had his doubts about Ludwig, but he hadn't expected things to run their course so quickly. Feli was supposed to be the one who was good with people and relationships. Romano couldn't shake these thoughts from his mind, and when he took a seat at the bar across from Antonio during his break he had to ask him if he'd noticed anything weird about Feliciano lately. Antonio thought about it for a minute and then shook his head. "He seems normal to me. Why do you ask?"

Romano kept his voice low so that Gilbert, talking with someone on the other side of the dining area, wouldn't hear him mention his name. "Gilbert seems to think there's something wrong with him and Ludwig."

"Why does he think that?"

"Because...they haven't..." Romano struggled with phrasing it delicately. "Done... _anything_."

Antonio caught on, responding with a bemused chuckle, and Romano regretted saying anything about it. He knew he shouldn't have taken this seriously. Of course there was nothing wrong with Feli's relationship. It was Feli. "I don't think you have to worry about your brother."

Romano _wasn't_ worried. He just didn't want Feli to come crying to him if he got his stupid little heart broken. There was nothing more annoying than having to listen to Feli whine about his problems.

"Gil doesn't know how to slow down," Antonio said. "He's always been like that, but I think lately he's been a little worse about it. He probably just doesn't understand why they'd want to wait. Sex is an important part of a relationship, but it's not something you should jump into."

Romano shouldn't have, and he wasn't sure why he did, but he said, "You mean like we did."

Antonio waffled, saying, "Well...that was a little different."

"How?"

"We'd known each other for a long time. And we spent a lot of time together. The more time you spend with someone you're attracted to the harder it gets to resist temptation."

That sounded more like an excuse than an explanation. "That doesn't make it okay," Romano said curtly.

"I'm not saying it was right. I'm just saying...it happened."

Romano stared at him, not understanding how Antonio could be so resigned. "You don't regret it?"

"Can't regret all of it," Antonio said, smiling discreetly. "It got us to where we are now."

 

* * *

 

The first thing that Gilbert bought with the money that Antonio paid him for his work the previous week was beer. Romano found two whole cases of it in the bottom of their refrigerator and wondered if somebody had wandered into the wrong apartment and left it there. They usually preferred the sweeter stuff to the harder stuff—wine, sangria, and occasionally an apéritif like a martini. They never bought beer. Romano realized after a moment, _Right. Germans._

Gilbert and Ludwig drank the stuff with their food that evening. Romano thought it was an awful pairing for the risotto that Feliciano had made, but he didn't say anything. Germans had such uncultivated palates.

They sat around the living room together like they were one diverse, dysfunctional family meeting for dinner. Ludwig, Feli, and Gilbert filled up the couch, and Romano and Antonio sat beside each other on the floor and ate off the coffee table. They made light conversation that was intermittently interrupted by Gilbert making a fool out of himself as he rained attention and flattery on Feliciano.

He'd been doing that for most of the day. Romano had thought it was weird at first. Now it was just irritating. While Gilbert had always liked Feli and got along well with him, it was getting to be excessive. Throughout the meal, he kept saying things like, "Feli, you're such a good cook! This is delicious! You would make the perfect housewife," and shit like that. Feli would always smile politely like you're supposed to do when given a compliment and say dismissive remarks like, "Oh, thanks," and, "I guess?"

Romano knew what Gilbert was doing. He was interfering, like Romano had told him not to. Not that he'd really thought Gilbert would listen to him. Romano had been expecting some unnecessarily convoluted scheme to get Ludwig and Feliciano locked in a closet together; this was much more bizarre, and given a choice Romano would have preferred the closet plan over this.

He wasn't sure what Gilbert was trying to accomplish. There were only two feasible outcomes to his method: Ludwig and Feliciano would either get annoyed, or, as it turned out, they would steadfastly ignore the things Gilbert said and did. Romano would have liked it better if they'd told Gilbert to shut the fuck up.

After they finished eating, with nothing outlined for the end of the day, Antonio suggested they play a game. They discussed the idea tepidly and couldn't agree on what to play.

"Monopoly?"

"Takes too long."

"Risk?"

" _Takes too fucking long_."

"Life?"

"Boring."

"Yours is."

"Ha ha, fuck you."

It went on like that for a good twenty minutes, until Gilbert said they should play a drinking game. Ludwig nodded deferentially. "You did buy enough beer for it."

Feliciano was a little hesitant, because he didn't drink excessively and was more lightweight compared to the rest of them, but he didn't take much convincing. Antonio was excited. He became all sentimental about his short-lived college days as Gilbert and Ludwig got up to fetch more bottles from the fridge.

"It isn't going to be Truth or Dare or some stupid kissing game, is it?" Romano asked.

"Stupid kissing games are fun, if you play them with the right people," Gilbert said. "Is there a problem with stupid kissing games?"

"I can think of three." He pointed down the line at Feli, Ludwig, and Gilbert in order. "Don't want to kiss my brother, would rather die, and..." Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "Self-explanatory."

It was an unspoken rule between the four of them who knew about the details of Romano and Gilbert's relationship that they were not supposed to talk about it. That was the closest any of them had come so far. Antonio was too distracted to notice.

"Oh, remember that game we used to play with Francis?" he asked Gilbert. "What was it called?"

"You mean Sex Master?"

Feliciano asked, "Who's Francis?"

"What kind of fucked up games did you guys play?" Romano snapped.

"Francis was our friend in college. And the game's really not as dirty as it sounds."

"If I remember what you told me, that game involves stripping as well as kissing," Ludwig said. They unanimously agreed that with the two new couples, the pair of brothers, and the pseudo-brotherly relationship between Antonio and Feli that they were not the _"right people"_ to play that sort of game with.

"I miss Francis," Antonio said. "We should call him sometime."

Romano kicked him under the table. "Stop talking about the guy you played sex games with in front of me, jerk."

"Aw, _Romanito_ ," he trilled.

Romano would never understand how Antonio found his grouchiness to be endearing. A normal boyfriend would probably just laugh it off, because it was in the past and didn't matter anymore. Maybe joke about it and suggest that the two of them should play the game sometime. Imagining trying to say something like that just made Romano uncomfortable.

An affectionate smile graced Antonio's lips as he leaned over to kiss Romano, who kept him back at arm's length, feigning grievance. "No. You get nothing. Take your kissy face somewhere else."

"But I don't want to kiss anyone but you!"

"Let's play beer pong!" Gilbert shouted over the rest of their banter.

So they did.

They used coffee cups from the café and wadded aluminum foil, because they didn't have party cups or ping pong balls. Pushed up against the wall was a dining table that they used more as a counter top than an actual table, and they pulled it out and cleared it off. Since they were an odd number, they rotated teams with one person standing off to the side as the honorary referee. Romano didn't fully understand the rules of beer pong (you needed to go to parties to learn these party games) and so opted to watch first.

Gilbert was adamant that Feli should be on his team, because he was sure they would win because Feli was just amazing and skilled at everything and so much better than Romano—not verbatim, but that's what Romano heard. He enjoyed being on the sidelines a little too much when he saw that his brother was, in fact, terrible at the game and couldn't make a single cup. Most of his throws were short and ended up rolling off the side. Gilbert offered words of encouragement and told him to keep trying while he carried their team.

Ludwig and Gilbert were competitive to a frightening degree, but exhibited this with opposing miens. Ludwig was laser-focused. Gilbert did everything he could to make him lose concentration.

"Don't miss!" Gilbert said, trying to block his shot.

"GILBERT, STOP SWATTING AT THE BALL."

"It's allowed!"

"THAT'S ONLY WHEN THE BALL IS BOUNCED. FOIL DOES NOT BOUNCE."

"It wasn't going to go in, anyway. You should work on your aim."

Ludwig wound his arm back and threw the aluminum sphere as hard as physics would allow, hitting Gilbert with a force that wouldn't have hurt had it not made direct contact with his eyeball. Gilbert managed to open his eye again after a minute, but it was red and watery for much longer. He didn't break the rules or make fun of Ludwig's aim after that.

When they rotated, Ludwig decided that he wanted to take a break during the new round. Romano thought that was probably for the best. Feliciano went over to Antonio's team, which left Romano and Gilbert to pair up.

"I still don't really know all the rules," Romano warned him.

Gilbert smiled at him and handed him one of the make-shift balls. "You'll do great."

Antonio landed in a cup almost every turn, and Gilbert and Romano were quickly losing. They were down to four cups while Antonio and Feli still had eight. Gilbert called for a rerack, shot, and made it. Romano, by his own math, had an accuracy of zero percent up to this point. He aimed for the cup to the left of the one Gilbert had made, and knew the moment that it left his hand that it wasn't going to make it. Instead, it ended up in the same cup as Gilbert's. This ignited a chorus of groans from the opposing side and whooping from Gilbert. He stared around the room as the only one who wasn't sure what he'd done.

"Antonio forgot to pull the cup! We won!" Gilbert told him. "And they have to drink _aaaaalllll_ those cups!"

"FUCK YEAH, I AM THE BEST, AND YOU ARE ALL MY BITCHES."

He and Gilbert chanted for the losers to drink and laughed when they looked like they were about to puke. They filled the cups again as soon as they were emptied and switched teams. Romano went to Antonio's side and Ludwig, sufficiently cooled off, stepped in to play on his brother's team.

The two Beilschmidts together were unstoppable. Romano and Antonio didn't stand a chance. Romano attempted to chug his final drink at the end of the game only to wind up sputtering half of it back up. Antonio's laughter rang in his ears as he wiped his burning lips and nose. He glared at Antonio, but he couldn't be too angry. He was having fun, Antonio was having fun, even with the threat of terrible hangovers later on.

Antonio was so beautiful when he was smiling and laughing. Romano memorized every crease and dimple in his face. His heart brimming, he took hold of Antonio and kissed him firmly on the lips. Antonio was startled, but responded instantly. The kiss was sloppy and wet and involved too much tongue, but they were drunk and unconcerned.

The risotto from earlier lingered in Antonio's mouth. "You taste like beer and cheese," Romano said oh-so smoothly.

"So do you."

It didn't stop them.

 

* * *

 

"We should draw on his face," Gilbert said, poking Antonio's cheek. Antonio was passed out cold. Romano had tried to put him on the couch, (which had been vacant at the time, but wasn't anymore) but he was too fucking heavy, and he'd been the one to decide to _"rest his eyes"_ on the floor right in front of the couch instead. He'd probably be sore and grumpy in the morning, but that was not Romano's fault, and he was too tired and drunk to care that much.

Feliciano was just a few feet away, his head buried in a throw pillow. He'd been the first to fall unconscious, unsurprisingly. It had happened all of sudden. One minute he'd been singing _"Grace Kelly"_ at the top of his lungs, and the next he was out like a light. Ludwig had been sensible enough to get somewhere not on the floor before he'd fallen asleep. He was lying face down on the couch behind them, his arms hanging limp off the side and his legs sprawled. He didn't look comfortable, but at least he had cushions.

Gilbert and Romano were the only ones still awake, though with the way the room kept spinning around him Romano didn't think that would last very long. He sat on the other side of Antonio and rested his head on the couch.

"Don't you dare, fucker," he said to Gilbert's plot.

"Come on! It'll be funny." Antonio was a naturally heavy sleeper, and a rock when drunk, so he wasn't going to wake up if they tried it. Still, Romano didn't want to. If Gilbert decided to draw on Ludwig or Feli's face, however, he wouldn't be opposed to that. "Oh, I see how it is. Getting all protective, are we?" Romano said nothing. "I'm not gonna draw on Ludwig, though, because he seriously might kill me. And I don't want to dirty Feli's angelic face."

That hit a nerve, and with the alcohol loosening his tongue Romano couldn't help releasing an exaggerated groan. " _God_ , what is it with Feli all of a sudden?" He didn't tolerate Gilbert's innocent expression, either. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. Lately you've been fawning all over him. It's sickening."

Gilbert shrugged. "He's cute."

 _You said I was cuter_ , Romano thought. _Fucking liar_. "Our brothers are still together. Just because you think that there's something wrong with their relationship doesn't mean you can just swoop in and tear them apart. Anyway, Feli hardly looks at you. Why do you want to chase him?" Gilbert then had the audacity to laugh at him. "Why the fuck are you laughing?!"

"You always assume the worst," he said. "I'm not really up for chasing after anyone, especially your brother. I wouldn't do that to Ludwig, and I'm not interested in Feli in that way. He's cute, but in the _'I want to squish him to death'_ kind of way. Not in the _'I want to hump his brains out'_ kind of way."

Romano cringed at the mere thought of Gilbert and his brother together in that sense. "So eloquent," he mumbled. "Why were you acting that way, then?"

"Ever since I first saw Feli and Little Ludwig together I knew they'd be good for each other. My brother's just..."

"A virgin?" he asked.

"We'll say reserved. He's too freaking _shy_ about stuff like that."

Romano raked his fingers through his hair and stared at the ceiling. "That doesn't make any goddamn sense. If you want our brothers to be together, why would you try to steal Feli's attention?"

"I'm not trying to take Feli from my brother. I just thought that it might be helpful if I gave him a push in the right direction. Get him to realize certain things."

It took a while for Romano's inebriated mind to process. "Are you trying to make him jealous enough to sleep with my brother?" he asked dubiously.

"Mm," he hummed. "This is more like Inception-style idea planting. If he keeps hearing about how great Feli is, he won't be able to stop thinking about it." His head fell back on the couch and he sighed. "Not exactly working like I'd hoped, though."

Gilbert had a strange definition of _"helpful"_. His attempts to push Ludwig and Feli closer together had looked eerily similar to flirtation. The bitterness in his voice subsiding now that he knew Gilbert hadn't so easily moved on from him to his brother, Romano said, "You're an idiot."

He gave an indifferent grunt. "At least I can say that I tried. It may not have worked, but meddling is how I show that I care."

Romano turned his head to see him better. His red face and half-closed eyes and all-over drunken dishevelment verged on adorable. Romano shouldn't be thinking these things about Gilbert anymore, now that he was committed to Antonio, but he was.

"You don't meddle in my relationship."

"Well..." Gilbert said frowning, "I can't really be impartial there."

 

* * *

  

Romano woke up too early in the morning to a pounding in his head and a dry sort of stickiness in his mouth. Looking up at the couch and the coffee table above him, he realized that he must have fallen asleep on the floor like Antonio and Feliciano. He didn't remember when that had happened. He only hazily recalled the pair of glinting red eyes and grinning lips, and he didn't know when he and Gilbert had stopped talking. As he started to gather his senses, he noticed that his head was resting on something bulky that felt nothing like the carpet of their living room. When it started to shift underneath him and an arm snaked its way around his middle, Romano was struck by the frightening notion that he was lying on top of someone that he shouldn't be lying on top of.

"SHIT," he exclaimed, jumping up much too quickly for his poor, swimming brain. "GIL—"

His voice cut short when he met with Antonio's sleeping face. Antonio breathed evenly through his mouth. A red pattern dotted his cheek from where he'd pressed it against the carpet fibers. Several feet away, another body stirred.

"What do you _waaaaant_?" Gilbert whined, hiding his eyes in the crooks of his elbows.

"Nothing," he said. "Forget it. Go back to sleep." He laid his head back on Antonio's chest, curling up safely. His relief nearly overshadowed the small disappointment that he felt.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter beta read by 00Fangirl.

Romano's eyes raked over Antonio's body, all smooth skin and lean muscle. Though not burly, it was anything but soft. Their lips met in silence. The way Antonio kissed him was familiar and learned, and yet felt different somehow. Not better or worse, but more assured. Romano was kissing the same person, but experiencing it in a new way. The more Antonio kissed him like that, the more Romano wanted to be kissed by him.

Antonio wanted more as well. His hands found their way around Romano's waist, pulling him closer. Romano reciprocated.

"Roma..." Antonio whispered. "Me muero de las ganas..."

Romano didn't know why Antonio spoke Spanish to him when they were in bed like he understood what he was saying. Yes, most of the time, Romano got the gist of it. It was similar to Italian, after all, and he'd picked up a few things over the years. It didn't get him all hot and bothered like it might have done for some people, though. The fact that Antonio was Spanish had nothing to do with why Romano was attracted to him. It was just him.

His hands moved again, gliding below Romano's hips and igniting a panic in him. "Wait," he lipped. He bristled at Antonio's touch. " _Wait!_ "

Antonio scooted back to look at him. "What's wrong?"

"Let's just, um, not do this right now." Antonio's frown deepened with growing consternation that Romano tried to dispel. "It's just...I don't want anyone to hear us."

"We can be quiet," he said.

Romano scoffed. "Like that worked the past two months. Feli fucking heard us."

Antonio's eyes widened. "He did?"

"Yeah."

"Oh." He lowered his head. "That's a little embarrassing."

"You mean _horrifying_."

Romano returned to his side of the bed and lied on his back. Antonio followed, lying parallel to him with a sigh. There was a moment of silence where Romano pretended not to watch the way Antonio nervously twiddled his thumbs as they refrained from touching each other.

"It's going to be difficult to be alone in the apartment," Antonio said.

"It's not like we can't go without sex for a little while."

"How long do you think you can last?"

The two weeks that Romano had spent avoiding Antonio after he'd lost his virginity to him were the longest weeks of his life, and after that they'd started sleeping together so frequently that even the single week Antonio had been in Spain had been a test of endurance. Romano honestly didn't know how he was going to be able to do this. Sleeping in the same bed only made matters worse. That anxious look on Antonio's face wasn't helpful either.

"I don't like this," he said. He respected the distance between them, but he wasn't going to be quiet about it.

"It won't kill you," Romano retorted.

"It might."

"Don't be so dramatic."

"What if I become so repressed that when we finally do it again I have a heart attack?"

Romano stopped himself from laughing at Antonio's undue seriousness. "That doesn't happen."

"It _happens_ ," Antonio argued. "And how are you so calm about this?"

Romano really wasn't any calmer than Antonio was. In fact, he was probably worse, he was just making more of an effort to hide it. If it meant that Romano's conscious didn't have to suffer the thought of Gilbert and the others being forced to listen to them, it was worth it.

He would just have to ignore Antonio's complaints.

 

* * *

 

Ludwig was bent on moving out before school started up again. The only thing that had kept him from getting out of there earlier was his brother's reluctance, but suddenly Gilbert's attitude changed. He never said a word in favor of or against the idea if anyone mentioned it, but he would get phone calls almost every day. He answered them with this confident, business-like timbre, and then he'd be gone for several hours. Romano often saw him carrying stacks of papers. Resumes, job applications, rental applications. He was ready to leave, too.

Antonio wanted everyone to spend time together before he and Romano left for Spain, and before Gilbert and Ludwig settled into their own place, which seemed like it would be any day now. Weekdays were impossible, with Antonio, Romano, and Gilbert working in the café, Gilbert constantly running off whenever his phone would ring, Ludwig and Feli conspicuously disappearing together at any opportunity, and Romano growing increasingly desperate for the world to stop and let him take a break. It was Sunday when Antonio had the idea that they should all go to the mall.

Going to the mall was sort of a double-edged sword. Nothing, in Romano's mind, was ever _not_ a double-edged sword, but anywhere that was loud and crowded was a particularly pointed edge. Still, Romano liked to go to the mall. He liked shopping, and eating the greasy food court food, and mentally poking fun at all the bizarrely dressed people that often showed up there. He was just as eager as anyone else for the trip, and he took his time dressing in slim fit jeans, a sweater, and high-top boots.

"Romanito! You look so cute and cool!" Antonio said excitedly when the Vargas brothers finally came downstairs. He squished Romano with a hug, and Romano made a noise of dissent while secretly enjoying the way that Antonio held him so tightly. This _"no sex"_ thing was going to be difficult.

"Gross," Gilbert said, looking away from the scene. "Quit being so gushy over your boyfriend."

Romano felt a burning in his chest and had to pull away from Antonio.

There was room for three people in the back of Gilbert's car, and Romano was adamant that Ludwig couldn't sit back there. Ludwig could sit in the passenger seat, a sentiment Gilbert seconded, saying that he needed to spend more time with his older brother so that he didn't forget how lucky he was to have such an awesome sibling. Romano just didn't want to get stuck between Feli and his boyfriend. Plus, if he and Antonio were in the back, then they could hold hands without Gilbert seeing. Ludwig, while annoyed, did sit in the front just so they could get a move on, and the others all packed in as well.

They parked outside the main entrance, all the way at the edge of the overflowing parking lot. One of the first stores they passed inside was a game store, which Romano usually ignored, but Gilbert rushed into, leading the others to unhurriedly go after him.

"Man, I miss my games!" he griped. "They're all packed somewhere and I can't find them!"

He stopped by the shelves on the wall and browsed the selection, occasionally picking one up and turning it over in his hands. Antonio followed him, while Romano lagged behind. Romano didn't have anything against video games, per se. He'd played them before. He just could never get _that_ into them, so he drifted about the store without much interest.

"I've never played that game," Antonio said, pointing to a case in Gilbert's right hand.

Gilbert was aghast. "You've _never_ played _Brawl_?"

"I don't have a console anymore. I sold it years ago."

They were shoulder to shoulder as they passed the game back and forth, discussing the characters, stages, and general gameplay in-depth. Romano listened in on the conversation briefly, but couldn't get passed the revelation that, goddammit, he had a _type_. And it was _these_ nerds.

"I've always liked Jigglypuff," Antonio said.

"Jigglypuff is such a useless Pokémon. Even her evolutions suck. She's more of a _Smash_ character than anything else now. In _Melee_ , she's top tier, because she has really good aerial attacks."

He shrugged. "I just think she's cute."

"Yeah, she's _cute_ , but there are plenty of cute characters that are better. That's why I'm always Kirby."

"Which ones Kirby?" Antonio asked. Gilbert pointed at the cover. "Oh, it's like a male Jigglypuff."

Romano walked over to the other side of the store where his brother and Ludwig were and tugged on his brother's arm. "Feli, I'm bored. Let's go somewhere else." He started pulling him towards the exit and Ludwig stepped in line to follow them, and Romano shot him a glare. "I didn't say _you_ could come."

"He's joking," Feli said, taking Ludwig's hand.

Romano's eyes fixated on their joined hands, and his blood boiled. To avoid public embarrassment, he opted not to shout in protest as they left the game store and went across the walkway to browse through some clothing selections. Feliciano perused the men's items, occasionally picking out something that he thought would suit Ludwig and holding it up to him to critique. He kept cooing over his boyfriend’s large build and muscles, embarrassing Ludwig and giving Romano the urge to punch them both. He couldn't deal with Feli when he was being this obnoxious, so he strayed towards a different clothes rack.

"I feel like your brother wants to kill me," he heard Ludwig whisper.

"Yeah, he gives off that vibe a lot," Feliciano affirmed.

Romano kept his back turned to them like he couldn't clearly hear what they were saying about him. He wasn't that far away. They were terribly indiscreet.

"It seems worse when he's around me, though."

"It's okay. Just give him a little time and he'll get over it."

Just because Feli said that, Romano was even more determined to not let his resentment for the younger Beilschmidt go. And Ludwig, instead of doing what Feli had suggested, made a point to come over to him and attempt to talk things out. Romano cringed when he stopped beside him.

"I'm sorry if you hate me," he said. As if Romano's anger was petty and he was above it all, the condescending bastard. "Can I ask what I did?"

"You're with my brother. You make him act like a bigger idiot than he normally does, and it's embarrassing for me to watch." That was the only explanation that Ludwig needed to hear.

"That hardly sounds reasonable. I never said anything when you were with my brother."

"I wasn't _'with'_ your brother!"

"And believe me, I could have said plenty."

That caught Romano off-guard. He didn't think that Ludwig had cared about that, not when he was so busy blinding Feli with his machoism **.** "What the fuck does _that_ mean? Am I not good enough for your brother or something?"

"Nothing like that. I just could have predicted what happened," he said. "I know he doesn't show it that much, but Gilbert isn't in a very good place right now. I warned him about jumping into things with you. But he doesn't really think he needs to take advice from his younger brother."

"Yeah?" Romano laughed bitterly. "Welcome to the fucking club. My brother doesn't listen to me either."

Before Ludwig could get another word in, Romano spun on his heel and left the store, taking a seat at a bench beside this indoor play area where a bunch of kids tumbled over giant foam cubes and foot tall slides. When Antonio and Feli finally realized he wasn't with either of them, they'd have to come get him.

Gilbert and Antonio came out first and asked where Feli and Ludwig had gone. Romano directed them to the store, and Gilbert went to fetch them, insulted by the idea that they would rather be alone with each other than with him. Antonio sat down beside Romano. The kids in the play area continued shrieking in their ears.

"You okay?" Antonio asked.

"I'm fine."

He wasn't fine. He was irritated with the way Feli was acting, and pissed at Ludwig for stealing his brother away, and for assuming that Romano and Gilbert had been doomed to fail from the start of their short-lived romance. He couldn't tell Antonio about the last part, though, and Antonio would think he was being ridiculous if he mentioned the other things. Antonio didn't probe further, anyway.

Gilbert yelled like the happy kids in the play area when a dog passed as he stepped back out into the mall with Ludwig and Feli in tow.

"Gilbert, it's a service dog, don't distract it," Ludwig said.

The owner was nice enough to allow them to pet his dog for a little bit, and Gilbert looked like he was going to die from happiness. The dog was well trained and didn't respond much beyond happily panting while Ludwig, Feli, Antonio, and most of all Gilbert, showered affection after getting permission.

"Do you just get excited over any animal you see?" Romano asked him.

He stared at Romano in disbelief. "You _don't_?"

"I don't really care about animals." That sounded bad. "I mean, I like them okay."

"What's your favorite animal?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think I'm partial to any one animal."

"You have to have a favorite animal, Romano. Those are the rules."

He was about to question who the fuck had laid out whatever rules Gilbert was talking about and why he was supposed to care, but Antonio interjected into the conversation with, "Romano, don't you like jellyfish?"

"Oh. Yeah." How had Antonio remembered that when Romano himself hadn't even thought of it? "I do really like jellyfish."

"Why jellyfish?" Gilbert asked.

"Jellyfish are fucking badasses. They don't have brains, hearts, or skeletons, they're just these gelatinous sea-blobs, but they are immortal, and beautiful, and they can glow in the dark. Did you know that there is a jellyfish called _'pink meanie'_? That is cute as fuck."

Gilbert's laughter interrupted his rambling, and Romano's heart became a buoy, rising up and up, no matter how much he tried to push it down. Glistening in Gilbert's eyes was such warm affection. Romano remembered seeing that same look in Antonio's eyes so many times before, even before he'd become aware of his feelings. He scooted closer to Antonio, thinking it best to stay near his side for the rest of the day.

Before they could spoil the dog rotten, his owner pulled him away and turned him in the direction of the ice skating rink. The floors above all opened up so people could look down and see the skaters, and those on the ground level had a view of the glass ceiling above. Antonio got excited and convinced the rest of them to go down the ramp to a room filled with lockers and shelves and shelves of ice skates. They rented their skates and locked their shoes up, and then headed up a flight of stairs to the bleachers outside the ice rink.

There were plenty of people lining the plastic benches. All of them about to see Romano make a fool out of himself. Balancing himself on the metal blades, Romano staggered to the wall and clung to it for dear life. This was a terrible idea. There was no way he could do this. But Antonio wanted to skate, and Romano would be a bad boyfriend if he didn't let him have his fun, even it meant getting a few bruises and scrapes in the process. Hopefully, that would be the worst of it.

He pushed open the gate and he carefully stepped out onto into the rink. It wasn't as hard as he thought to remain standing. The blades cut into the ice and provided just enough stability so that, so long as he didn't move, he stayed upright. He stood rigid on the ice, and wasn't sure what to do next.

"Roma," Antonio said in a shaky voice. "Maybe this is a bad time to say..."

"What?"

"Um." He was still by the gate, eyes turned down to the ice underneath him. He clung fearfully to the wall. "I don't know how to ice skate."

"Fucking _what_?!" Romano snapped. "This was _your_ idea!"

Really, he should've known that Antonio didn't know how to ice skate. He'd never once seen him do it. He doubted Antonio could even roller blade, but the same went for Romano and Feliciano. Gilbert and Ludwig, however, were good on the ice. They were literally skating circles around the three of them, showing off their surprising ability while the others struggled. Eventually, Ludwig offered to help Feliciano, who was only too happy to have someone less inept to lean on. Romano glared at them as they passed him up and continued to fight the slippery surface that prevented him from going very far forward. He got ahead of Antonio, but that was because Antonio refused to let go of the wall by the gate and actually move.

Gilbert was about to lap around again when slowed down beside Romano and reached out towards him. "Give me your hand."

His heart leapt into his throat as he remembered how he'd felt when he'd held Gilbert's hand on their not-date. If he took it again now, would he still feel the same? Would Gilbert? Even if they didn't, Romano wasn't sure it would be entirely innocent.

"Hell no," he said, his legs still wobbling.

"Romano, you are going to fall, give me your fucking hand."

"I'm fine! Look, I think I'm actually getting the hang of— _wahh_!" He lost his balance entirely and fell flat on his ass. Gilbert burst with laughter, hugging his sides. That was great for Romano's self-esteem. His butt was now cold and wet, and his face was burning from embarrassment. He sat and sulked on the ice.

"You're such a crybaby," Gilbert said, bending down to him. "You gonna take my hand now?"

Romano considered the hand that he offered. He wasn't sure if he could stand without help, so he allowed Gilbert to pull him up. And then Gilbert started skating backwards, taking Romano along with him. Romano's body tensed and jerked unsteadily as they moved slowly. He kept his eyes on Gilbert's feet to study the way he turned his heels out and kicked forward.

"You're trying to step. You can't skate like you're walking," Gilbert explained. "You have to push forward and out on the blade."

Romano did as he instructed, and found himself keeping up with him much easier. They glided across the ice, rounding the turn and gaining a little speed.

"How do you know how to skate?" Romano asked.

Gilbert showed off a proud smile. "I'm just naturally talented."

"I bet you took figure skating lessons as a kid."

" _No_!"

Gilbert came to a stop and Romano dug the toe of his blades into the ice to keep from bumping into him. He was keenly aware of how close their bodies were as they let other skaters fly past them. His hands were still placed in Gilbert's, their fingers nearly interlaced. He wondered if Gilbert could feel his pulse in his palms as distinctly as he could. He yanked his hands away.

Antonio had not moved very far down the rink, and Romano, feeling more comfortable skating now, left Gilbert with a mumbled excuse to return to his side. He helped him along, and they floundered around on the ice together.

After a while of skating around in circles, Romano complained about being cold because of the wet spots on his clothes from every time he'd fallen on the ice and the ice skates hurting his feet. They passed Feli and Ludwig on the way. They wanted to continue skating, and told them they would find them when they were done. Romano and Antonio slowly made their way back to the bleachers. Antonio slumped down on the plastic bench and heaved a contented sigh. "Well, that was fun. Skating is a lot harder than it looks!"

Romano pulled out the knot in his laces and tore of his skates, grumbling. "I'm going to have blisters and bruises for weeks."

Antonio laughed and patted his cheek, stroking with his thumb.

"Thanks for skating with me, Roma."

He placed his hand over Antonio's and smirked. "Of course."

Antonio tilted his head to the side and kissed him. It was a short peck on the lips at first, like that was all that he meant to do. But, without respite, he pressed forward again, returning with much more heat and determination. Romano's eyelids fluttered shut, and he allowed Antonio to massage the warmth back into his lips. The heat spread to his chest and sent tingles throughout the rest of his body, all the way to his fingertips. Then somebody nearby laughed, and Romano felt a cold rush as he concluded that they must be laughing at him.

He pulled away from Antonio, and just in time to see Gilbert stepping off the ice rink and approaching them. "You two are clingy as fuck," he muttered, refusing to look at them.

 _"Clingy"_ wasn't the appropriate word as far as Romano was concerned, considering their history and living situation, but that didn't matter. Gilbert was just being bitter, and it was getting on his nerves. Antonio wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, greeting Gilbert with a stilted smile.

"Oh, Gilbert. I thought you would be with your brother and Feli." The way Antonio said it, it was obvious that he was trying to give him a hint.

"Yeah," he snickered humorlessly. "I'm a third wheel there, too."

Whether or not he sensed the tension creeping up between the three of them, he chose to ignore it. He followed Antonio and Romano into a large department store, just next to the ice rink so that they could easily check up on Feliciano and Ludwig. Not one of them spoke. They passed by the make-up section and Gilbert, in an attempt to dispel the uncomfortable atmosphere, grabbed a tube of lipstick from an angled display to offer Antonio, and in the process knocked dozens of products off the base. They clattered loudly against the hard floor. Gilbert's face was red as he knelt to pick up the mess. Romano snorted.

"If you're going to stay with us, at least refrain from making an idiot of yourself," he said.

Gilbert's glare was cutting. "You know, you calling me an idiot all the time is starting to get annoying."

Those words pierced Romano like a bullet through his chest. This was his fear coming true. Gilbert was starting to see him clearly now, and he thought he was annoying. It hurt more than Romano had been prepared for. "Um...sorry..." he murmured quietly.

Gilbert's features softened and a blush colored his face. "Damn," he breathed. "You're too cute."

And just like that, the switch was flipped and Romano no longer had the urge to cry. He stood in shock at Gilbert's nerve. He couldn't be calling him cute when he had a boyfriend— _in front of_ his boyfriend! "You've got to be fucking kidding me," he said. "Antonio is _right_ —"

Not there. Romano's head swiveled as he searched around the store. Antonio was nowhere in sight.

"Romano, you lost your boyfriend," Gilbert deadpanned.

"No shit, where the fuck did he go?"

"I guess he just wandered off?"

"Jesus Christ, is he a fucking toddler? Do I need to hold his fucking hand so he doesn't get his ass lost? This is ridiculous." Romano started off down the aisle, peering around clothes racks and display tables for any sign of Antonio. He didn't expect Gilbert to trail after him, and didn't know he was still there until he turned around and suddenly bumped into him. He jumped back with a harsh cry of surprise and displeasure **.** "Stop following me! I don't need your help!"

Gilbert scowled at him. "Why are you getting mad at me? I haven't done anything."

"Right. This whole time you haven't done _anything_."

"What did I do?"

"You keep making these snide little comments and getting all pissy because I hug and kiss Antonio, _my boyfriend_ , in front of you. You're not even _trying_ to be subtle or anything. You act like I'm doing it specifically to annoy you. Here's a news flash: Not everything is about you."

He threw his head back and groaned. "I know. Okay? I know. I just, I can't help but feel pushed to the side. And I don't think I deserve it. But I'm seriously not trying to get between you two. I just sometimes say and do things without thinking."

Romano had been pushing Gilbert away, but he had a reason for doing so. He had enough on his plate with figuring out how things were supposed to work between him and Antonio now without having to constantly worry about hurting Gilbert. The way Gilbert was acting was making Romano regret having considered his feelings at all.

Gilbert put his hands up in a show of resignation. "I'll stop."

"Really?" Romano said, not sure if he trusted his word.

"I promise. I'm Antonio's friend, and I'm a good friend." His confidence ever so slightly wavered. "I always thought I was a good friend. But, this is..."

Romano didn't like this any more than he did. He didn't like pushing him away like this. It wasn't Gilbert's fault that things had turned out the way they did. Romano had hoped that they could be friends, but it seemed that neither of them could forget what had happened between them that easily.

What they needed was some kind of closure. If Gilbert could understand how difficult his position was, if they could just be open with each other, maybe that would help make things better. He started to say, "Just because I'm with Antonio doesn't mean..."

But he couldn't finish that sentence.

"What?" Gilbert asked.

Romano shook his head. "I don't know what I meant to say." He'd almost implied that he still had feelings for Gilbert, and that wouldn't be closure. It would only keep them dwelling on possibilities that could no longer happen. Even if it was true, it was better for Gilbert to believe that it wasn't. "I'm gonna go find Antonio."

His dissatisfaction with Romano's dismissal was clear, but he said, "Okay."

They left in opposite directions. Romano pulled out his phone and called Antonio's number to track him down quicker, but it went to voicemail. Of all the times to ignore his phone. He was about to redial when a young female employee with a brown ponytail on top of her head approached him and asked if he needed help finding anything.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You might be able to help me find my boyfriend. I seem to have misplaced him."

"Okay," she giggled. "Well, what does he look like?"

"About this tall, sort of curly brown hair. Most likely wearing an oblivious grin."

She took a moment to think before she turned down the aisle and led Romano through the store. They passed the makeup and perfume displays and came to the jewelry cases, where Antonio was bent over and admiring all the shiny and expensive gold and silver. He looked up when Romano stopped next to him and smiled, but when his eyes landed on the girl at his side that smile faltered.

Romano thanked the girl, and she gave a cheery, "No problem," before heading off, her ponytail swishing with every step.

"She seemed nice," Antonio said.

"Yeah," Romano replied, not thinking much of it.

He took Antonio's hand, which fell limply into his, and they walked back to the last place where Romano had seen Gilbert. He wasn't there anymore, and they didn't know where Feli and Ludwig were at this point either. Romano griped about how inconvenient it was that they'd all gotten split up. He took out his phone and started sending text messages so they could try to meet up. They'd already been at the mall for several hours, so they were probably going to be ready to leave soon. Romano asked Antonio if he wanted to leave or stay a little bit longer, and Antonio shrugged and muttered, "I don't care."

"God, what is even the point of any of you having phones when you never fucking check them?" Romano asked out loud, waiting impatiently for a text alert. Feli _was_ a ditz, so that could explain why he wasn't replying. And Romano actually wasn't all that surprised that Gilbert wasn't answering his text. And Ludwig might be mad at him, too. "On second thought, maybe you should text them."

Antonio was unresponsive, and wearing a miserable frown.

"Okay," Romano said, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Something's clearly bothering you. You might as well just tell me."

He looked guilty. "I don't want to make a big deal about it. You don't mean anything by it, and I should be used to your flirting by now."

Romano wasn't certain what he was talking about. His fear was that Antonio knew something about him and Gilbert. Either he'd heard something, or he'd just picked it up. But that seemed unlikely, and Romano hadn't really been _flirting_ with Gilbert. Or, if he had, he hadn't meant to. It took a second or two for his mind to connect what Antonio was saying with the way that he'd reacted to the sight of the girl from earlier. "You think I was flirting with the store girl?"

"She was pretty," Antonio granted as if to excuse Romano's behavior, but there was acidity in his words. "Why else would you be talking to her?"

"Goddammit, I wasn't trying to hit on her! I was talking to her about _you_. I told her I was looking for my _boyfriend,_ because he fucking wandered off like a child, and she was trying to help."

There was uncertainty in his eyes. "Is that really all?"

"Are you fucking blind, or do you just have no faith in me?"

Romano couldn't decide whether he was more hurt by Antonio's assumption or more pissed off, but that soon became clear.

"I saw you smiling at her," Antonio said, a thoughtful expression outlining his face. "You always seem so fake when you talk to girls."

Romano felt that familiar hot sting in his face, telling him he was about to cry and there was no turning back. "Fuck you," he said, turning away in a hurry. He didn't want to cry here, and in front of Antonio. _Just wait until you can find a bathroom or something to hide in._

He set a quick pace, but Antonio easily kept up with him, calling, "Romano! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Well, I don't accept your apology, asshole!"

Romano had no idea where he was going. He didn't look up at the shops he passed, and he no longer cared where Gilbert and the others were. His only focus was on moving, hopefully getting away from the crowds of people streaming around him, whose eyes he felt following him everywhere, and not looking back. Antonio was following him close enough that, through the ringing clamor of shoppers, he could still hear him sigh. "How is it that lately I always end up hurting your feelings?"

"You don't trust me. I can't even _talk_ to a girl without you jumping to conclusions."

"That's not it. I just get a little jealous sometimes."

They were going to get lost, Romano realized, if he continued to blindly charge through the mall, so he stopped. Antonio's shoes squeaked against the tile as he came to a halt just behind him. The stares that they earned from those who passed them by made Romano want to crawl inside himself and disappear. He felt his muscles lock up, holding him still.

"Do you know when it was that I first started to fall in love with you?"

Romano managed to peer over his shoulder, alleviating some of the Antonio's worry. "I honestly have no idea."

"Neither do I," he said, breaking out a soft smile. "I started to notice in the last few years how you'd grown up so much, and so fast. And one day that turned into me thinking that you'd grown up to be pretty gorgeous."

Romano was struck by his choice of words. Antonio really thought that he was _gorgeous_?

"Sometime during all of this I realized that I really hated it when you flirted with girls. But I couldn't do anything about it, because it wasn't my business." His smile fell instantly. "It was terrible."

"I didn't know," Romano said in his defense. "But it _is_ your business now. And I know I'm a shitty boyfriend, but damn, give me _some_ credit. I know that I'm not supposed to flirt with anyone else while I'm with you."

The problem at the back of Romano's mind was that he wasn't sure what constituted as flirting when it came to Gilbert. He'd never been good at flirting with guys. He'd never been good at being friends with them, either. Being nice felt like flirting, even if that wasn't his intention. Just being near Gilbert reminded Romano of what he was keeping from Antonio.

None of this was fair. That he couldn't have a normal relationship with Antonio when Gilbert was still around. That he had to still want Gilbert around anyway.

"You're not a shitty boyfriend. You just aren't used to being in a relationship," Antonio said. "It's very different from being single."

And wasn't that the truth.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. This was actually published on FF a while ago, but I don't have my laptop right now (it's in repairs) and it's been difficult to upload things without people seeing me...there's a reason my account name is "Guiltipleasures"...
> 
> Beta read by 00Fangirl and scarletnight72.

The few times in Romano's life in which he'd been on an airplane, he'd never been worried that someone might, for whatever reason, want to hijack or bomb or otherwise threaten the safety of the flight he just so happened to board. It was unlikely that some mechanical or human error would send them hurtling out of the sky at terminal velocity and crashing into the ocean. There was a small chance of any one of those things happening at any point in time, but he got by on the hope that he wasn't quite _that_ unlucky.

He wasn't afraid of flying.

He simply hated it.

Airports were noisy and packed, going through the security checkpoint was time-consuming and unpleasant, and it was always a struggle to find the right gate. By the time Romano and Antonio got through all of that and found a vacant bench where they could wait for their plane to board, Romano was already in a poor mood. And they hadn't even gotten to the actual flying part yet. Romano stood up from the bench and paced around it a bit since he was about to spend nearly an entire day on his ass anyway. Eleven hours of sitting in small, stiff seats with not much to do except maybe watch an in-flight movie, sleep, or otherwise put up with a crying baby or a too chatty old man was not his idea of fun.

"Romano, you're making me nervous," Antonio said after a while of watching him walk in circles. He stopped and stood still.

While he was thankful for a weekend away from the café and the apartment, both minefields as of late, the only thing that kept him from complaining about waiting in this gray concourse with other disgruntled, weary souls to board a cramped airplane to do _more_ waiting was that he wasn't doing this for himself. He was doing this for Antonio.

Antonio stretched out his back. Though they'd only worked half a day that morning before coming to the airport, he was yawning.

"Are you tired?" Romano asked.

"Ahh...a little," he said sheepishly.

"Then go to sleep. Plane's not supposed to board for another forty-five minutes." Neither of them were very good with forward planning or time maintenance, so when it was something important they had to leave extra extra early to ensure they wouldn't be late. Romano picked up his sweater from where he'd laid it on top of his suitcase and threw it over Antonio's head, covering his face and shoulders. "Sleep, dammit."

The blanketed lump that was Romano's boyfriend careened a little, and for a moment it looked like he might topple to the floor. He slumped to the side, finding support for his head against Romano's stomach. He couldn't be comfortable like that, but when Romano shifted his weight to the other foot, Antonio thought he was walking away and warned him, "If you move, I'll fall over."

Romano was a kind and caring boyfriend, and wouldn't betray Antonio's trust like that. Even if it would probably be funny.

"I know, I know," he said. "I'm not moving."

The sweater rose and fell slowly as Antonio's breath evened out and he, if at all possible, dozed off.

 

* * *

 

Their plane arrived Friday at 7 a.m. Central European Time at the Murcia-San Javier Airport, which doubled as a military base. Looking out the windows of the terminal, Romano could spot a few small military aircrafts on a plot away from the runways. They were about a thirty minute drive away from the city Murcia, in the southern province of Murcia, which was part of the autonomous community also called Murcia. (The Spanish were very original with their names, Romano mused.)

They'd pre-booked a rental car since Antonio had said that transportation from the airport would be expensive and hard to come by, and picked up the keys at the rental car counter by the exit doors. The air outside was cool and dry, but the sun was bright and only going to get hotter. They drove past palm trees and scraggly brown grass towards the city Murcia. Industrial buildings and warehouses sprung up as they skirted around the city and headed to where orchards and farmlands stretched out around them and the sun-bleached roads turned narrow. They went further from the city than Romano expected, and several minutes passed where they saw no houses at all before they were finally pulling up to their destination.

Every time Antonio had used the word _"estate"_ to describe the family-owned property in Spain that his father had retired to, Romano had imagined something much grander than what he saw. There was one modest, sandy colored stone house encircled by a walled terrace, and what seemed to be a glorified tool shed out back. The vineyard couldn't have been more than a few acres. Still, having lived in cities and apartments for most of his life, it was more open and spacious than what Romano was used to.

They went inside and set their luggage in the living room beside the couch, and then Antonio led Romano to the windows. The side of the living room that was facing the vineyard was entirely glass panels, offering a magnificent view of the steppe grasslands and tree covered hills beyond the property.

"What do you think?" Antonio asked.

"It's really nice," he said readily.

Pleased by the response, Antonio went back into the living room. Romano followed him, and they began moving their luggage into the bedroom.

"So, what all do we need to do?" Romano asked, dragging a suitcase that was probably larger than necessary for three days behind him. The wheels of his suitcase clacked against the tile floor.

"Not much, really. I need to go to the realtor's office to sign a few more things. The housing market isn't very good right now, so it's probably going to take a while to find a buyer, but they'll take care of all that. I just wanted to spend some time here before they officially put it up for sale. Go through some of my dad's old things to see if there's anything I want to save, for myself or for family."

"Speaking of which, am I going to meet your family?"

"Mm," Antonio hummed uncertainly, "it's okay if you don't want to. I saw them when I was here just a few weeks ago. Plus, they don't speak a lot of English. Or Italian."

The guest bedroom was modest in size and furnishings, containing only a twin sized bed, a nightstand, and a desk slash dresser. The closet was a compact box with double doors protruding from the wall. Antonio and Romano piled up their things in the corner and out of the way.

"I wouldn't mind meeting them. Just so you know," Romano said.

He smiled. "You can meet them one day. To be honest, I kind of wanted you all to myself this weekend. We haven't had a lot of time to spend alone together these last few weeks."

It was next to impossible for them to have time to themselves with three other people living with them. Couple-y behavior had been, as a result, fluky, especially while Romano still tiptoed around his enduring feelings for Gilbert. Romano started to realize just how much he and Antonio had been needing a trip like this.

"Okay. So, aside from looking through your dad's stuff, what else are we going to do?"

"There's lots of places I want to show you," Antonio said excitedly. "But for now? Let's take a nap!" He flopped down on the bed, releasing an exaggerated sigh and hugging the pillows.

"A nap? It's the middle of the damn morning. Didn't you sleep on the plane?"

"It's the jetlag," he whined. "It's still nighttime back home."

Romano was surprised he didn't feel tired. And besides, the bed hardly looked big enough for the both of them to sleep in. Antonio nevertheless gestured for Romano to come lie beside him, and Romano complied with a stubborn sigh. It ended up with Romano being more or less on top of Antonio, who wrapped his arms around him contently.

Their position wasn't uncomfortable, but it was a little cramped. Romano wasn't sure how this was going to work later when they wanted to get a full night's rest. He knew there must be a larger bed in the main bedroom, but he refrained from mentioning it. He could figure out on his own why Antonio would rather be here instead of his father's room.

"Tell me about your dad," Romano said, looking down at Antonio from where he rested his chin on the other man's chest. "I never really knew him."

He'd only ever met Antonio's father a few times during his childhood, and the most he'd known about him was that he was a proud man, that he and his wife had separated when Antonio was in high school, and that he retired and moved back to Spain in the last years of his life. Antonio didn't talk about him much.

"My dad was...well," Antonio chuckled weakly, "I had a strange relationship with my dad. I don't really remember him being there a lot when I was younger. I have a few happy memories of playing soccer with him. It was very important to him that I played soccer. He worked a lot when I was little, though, and when he was home he was always tired and grumpy. He would yell, too, so I tried not to be around him when he was like that. He wasn't very affectionate, either. I would always hug my mom and kiss her cheek, but he didn't like doing that. And I can't remember if he ever said that he loved my mom and me."

There was neither anger nor sadness in Antonio's face. Just blankness and silent tears. It was the first time Romano had ever seen him cry, and it felt fucking terrible. He'd been hoping to help Antonio conjure up something nice images to remember his father by, and feel closer to him in the process. This wasn't what he wanted. Antonio shouldn't be crying. Romano wiped his eyes, choking back his own sobs.

"No! Romano!" Antonio exclaimed, placing a hand on the side of his face. "You don't have to cry, it's okay!" He was trying to comfort Romano. When any idiot could see that he was the one who needed to be comforted.

" _You're_ crying! Seeing you cry made me cry, goddammit!" Romano shouted, his voice breaking.

"I'm crying?"

He touched his fingertips to his cheeks, smearing the tear stains. He looked like a poor, confused little kid. Romano kissed him, hoping to erase the pain he was feeling. It wasn't difficult to coax a positive response out of Antonio. It never was. Romano pushed further, deeper. He was falling away from himself and getting absorbed by the kiss. He backed off, burying his face in Antonio's shirt.

"God," he groaned, balling Antonio's collar in his fist. "Why is this so fucking hard?"

"What's wrong? What's hard?"

"Lately, I...want to hug you and kiss you all the time...and restraining myself is..."

"Romano," he said gently, "you don't have to restrain yourself. It would make me really happy if you were more affectionate."

There was a difference between knowing he was allowed to hug and kiss Antonio as he pleased now that they were in a relationship and feeling confident enough to act on the desire. Romano wanted to give Antonio the affection that he needed and deserved, but he didn't yet know how to shake off all the leftover doubt and unease from when they were only sleeping together. He was still holding back.

Romano laid his head down on Antonio's chest where he felt not completely secure, but comfortable. They didn't speak anymore. Antonio was already drifting off. Romano closed his eyes as well, and the rays of sunlight that seeped through the curtains faded from his mind.

 

* * *

 

Romano woke up to find that Antonio was no longer lying beside him on the guest bed. The outside light shone brightly through the uncovered windows. Apparently, he'd been more tired than he'd realized, because he fished his phone out of his pocket to check the time and saw that it was already after noon. He found Antonio in the living room with a roll of packing tape in his hand and a couple of cardboard boxes at his feet.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Romano asked, looking at the boxes. He'd thought that Antonio would want his help.

"That's okay. It didn't take that long. And now we have more time to spend together."

He left the tape and the boxes in the middle of the floor. Romano searched his face for any sign that he had been crying again, but saw none.

Antonio took him out to the vineyard. It was obvious that no one had tended to the land in quite a while. The sprouting vines were all but bare and looked like they were clinging weakly to life. The two of them strolled between the trellis-work and posts as Antonio went on about Murcia.

"There's a lot of interesting places in the city. Lots of cool things for tourists to do. There's a bullfighting museum, if you want to see that. Murcia has a lot of museums, actually. And there's lots of pretty churches and monasteries and neat shops."

Romano enjoyed this. There was something about this place. It was a little rustic and maybe not exactly dazzling, but it was cozy and quaint and a pleasant change of pace from the stress of back home. "Are you sure you want to sell this place?" he asked. "It's nice."

Antonio's smile was lopsided. "It's much nicer with you here. I don't think I would have liked coming back here by myself. And anyway, I wouldn't know what to do with it if I kept it."

He had a point. It wasn't like they could keep the vineyard going themselves, and they couldn't afford to hire others to do it for them. That just left the house, and while it would make a nice summer home, it wasn't like they could get away every summer. It would be better to sell it and get whatever they could out of it before it became worthless.

After walking much of the expanse of the vineyard, they decided to drive to the city. It was after two o'clock, and most places were closed so that people could go home and enjoy lunch with their families. Some restaurants were open for those that chose to stay close to work, and Romano and Antonio started looking for somewhere to eat. Romano recognized many of the Spanish words he saw on the signs they passed, and a surprising number of the signs were in English. Even some of the graffiti, displayed on so many brick walls and rolling grille doors, was in English. This, combined with the way Antonio was acting as his tour guide, helped him not to feel too lost as they roamed around the city.

"I visited this part of the city last time I was here, too. Oh, I ate at that restaurant! The fish there is really good. Down this street is the Salzillo museum! I've been there before. Salzillo was a really famous sculptor in Spain. Oh, did you know that his family immigrated here from Italy? Isn't that cool?"

Antonio continued to point at the various buildings they passed, even as Romano was telling him to focus on driving until they found a car park.

Walking around, they came to a hole-in-the-wall kind of restaurant, (though from what Romano had seen thus far, it appeared that every restaurant in Spain was just that) almost indistinguishable from the rest of the side-by-side brick structures along the street. The advertising was minimal: a small awning to display the name, and the _menú del dia_ posted on the outside wall. Inside was crowded, three long tables filling up most of the space that the restaurant offered. Romano and Antonio sat in the corner and ate gazpacho, which was cool and vibrant and delicious. What the restaurant lacked in presence, it fully made up for with its food.

By the time they had finished their lunch, it was nearly five o'clock. Antonio reminded Romano that they had to go to the realtor's office, and Romano felt that creeping feeling that things weren't really as they should be. One minute, they were on a normal vacation. The next minute, the shadow of Antonio's father's death was looming over them again.

Romano couldn't forget the reason that they were here entirely. It wasn't as if he expected it to go away so quickly, but he couldn't stand the long, tense silences that came with it. He could only sit there and try not to let Antonio realize that he was in distress, at a loss for what to say. There was _nothing_ to say.

The realtor's office was only a short distance from the restaurant. Antonio and Romano entered a modest waiting area with dirt-colored carpet and were asked to sit by a lady behind a service window. There were several office doors along the back wall. Within a few minutes, one of them opened and a short-haired, middle aged woman in a blazer stepped out to greet them.

" _Hola, Señor Carriedo_ ," she said to Antonio. Noticing Romano, she extended her hand to him. " _Hola. Me llamo Señora Navarro_."

"Romano," he said, shaking her hand.

" _Mucho gusto. Usted es su hermano_?"

He reacted with a little bit of offense, but Antonio just laughed and said, " _No, él es mi novio_."

" _Ah. Perdóneme_ ," she said with an embarrassed smile.

She motioned for them to follow her back to her office. Romano hesitated as she and Antonio walked on, not sure what the purpose of him going was. He wouldn't be of any help to either of them. He wouldn't even be able to keep up with their Spanish. Antonio stopped and turned back to him. "Are you coming?"

"No. I'll probably just stay out here," he mumbled.

"Oh. Okay."

He lingered for a moment with a vague expression, but then timidly tucked his head and disappeared into Mrs. Navarro's office. Romano sat back down in his chair and took out his phone to browse through his apps to kill time. As the minutes slowly ticked on by, he thought about how pointless it was for him to be here. He couldn’t help Antonio with anything. It would have been better if Antonio had just extended his first trip by a few days to take care of all this extra stuff. Then he wouldn't have had to waste money paying for them both to come out here.

Antonio, though he managed his business fine, was terrible when it came to personal expenses. He was careless with his money. Always had been. Romano usually found this trait to be mildly frustrating. Now it was genuinely upsetting because ever since this trip had started it seemed like Antonio was more worried about Romano than about the much more important things that he should have been focusing on. He was either purposefully distracting himself, or he was thoughtlessly allowing himself to become distracted. Either way, Romano wasn't sure how well Antonio was handling all of this.

It wasn't half an hour before Antonio returned, a wilted look in his eyes.

"How'd it go?" Romano asked.

"Alright. We finished transferring the deed to my name, and talked about a bunch of legal stuff I didn't really understand," he said with a weak laugh. "And about how she'll keep me updated on potential buyers and everything."

"Okay." He grabbed Antonio's hand and started toward the door. "Let's go walk around some more."

"Where?" he asked.

"I don't care. Wherever. Show me some of the places you were talking about." He gave him a warning look that was more teasing than hostile. "They better not be crappy tourist rip-offs!"

"Romano, I would _never_ ," Antonio professed, a smile returning to his face.

They left the office to amble along the sidewalk, peering into the windows of the stores that they passed. It was much more crowded than it had been earlier, but with the sun glowing just behind the tops of the buildings, setting the entire city in a dusky orange blaze, the thing Romano focused on was the warmth of Antonio's hand in his.

They headed east towards the historic city center where many of the museums and cathedrals were concentrated. The streets widened to accommodate the number of people and cars that Antonio and Romano wound through. They spotted all sorts of stores on their way, from clothing and cosmetics, to small cafés and tapas restaurants, to an artisan shop with shelves of figurines in its window. They popped inside for some cool air and browsed through t-shirts and hats, jewelry, an excessive number of decorative vases, and other random knick-knacks made from glass and porcelain.

Romano ran his fingertips over the edge of the shelves, admiring the shine of the figurines on display. Most of them were animal shaped. Little dogs and cats made of colored glass and no taller than his thumb. One in particular caught his eye, and he picked it off the shelf to get a better look.

"Are you going to buy that?" Antonio asked, coming up behind him.

Romano felt the urge to hide from Antonio the yellow glass bird, but he'd already caught him looking at it. He put on a frown as he turned it over delicately in his hands, not yet setting it back on the shelf. "It might get broken if I have to carry it around the rest of the day."

"We could take it back to the car so it will be safe."

"What's the point in going all the way back to the car just to come all this way to continue to the center of the city, and then go all the way back to the car again later?"

"Well," Antonio said, "we could either drive the car to the center of the city and find somewhere else to park, or we could just go back to the house and come back tomorrow. We still have a couple of days to see the city."

Romano stopped to look at the price tag. It wasn't even three euros. That wasn't much to part with.

"You should buy it! It's cute!"

"Okay, fine," he huffed, carrying the little yellow bird to the counter with a petulant look on his face. As if he was begrudgingly buying it for Antonio's sake, and not because it made him smile, or because of who it made him think of.

 

* * *

 

They got back to the house late, after the sun had long set. Though physically exhausted, their internal clocks were entirely out of whack. They went back into the guest room and stretched out on the bed, neither one of them seriously considering going to sleep at the current hour.

A mood struck Antonio. His sunken eyes fixed on the ceiling, and he breathed a quiet, weary sigh. "I kind of feel weird about all this."

"What?" Romano asked.

"I don't know. Just...being here."

"Weird how?"

He opened his mouth a few times, but shut it before the words could leave him. "I'm not sure how to explain it," he said finally. He shrugged. "Maybe I'm just overly sentimental."

Antonio was overly sentimental, and about the stupidest things. He could empathize with a plant if he thought too hard about it. This, however, was entirely normal. Feeling uncertain and unhappy. But Antonio only showed the darkest side of him in small and unclear moments, and then he brushed past them.

"Romano," he said, changing beat, "can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Do you remember how you were so interested to know who my first kiss was?"

"Yeah."

"Who was yours?"

Romano stared, nonplussed. "You."

Antonio's smile spread too wide for his face. "Was I really?"

"Of course you were. Who else would it have been?"

He leaned his head against Romano's, his hand finding a place on Romano's cheek. "That makes me so happy."

They moved to close the distance between them at the same time, falling into the kiss instinctively. Romano felt his heart overflowing.

"I love you," he whispered for the first time. Antonio's reaction was a muffled squeak between their joined lips. He couldn’t speak between the quick succession of kisses as Romano repeated the phrase. "I love you." Kiss. "I love you." Kiss. "I love you." Kiss.

After some time of them not being able to have sex, Romano's drive had died down to where he hardly even thought about it. Now, a powerful desire like he hadn't felt in a while struck him, and in an instant, he was climbing into Antonio's lap, straddling his hips. Another incoherent sound came from Antonio, louder this time, as Romano began working past Antonio's clothing and guiding his hands to do the same to him. Breathless between frantic kisses, Romano said, "I want you, Antonio. Please."

"Romano, wait." Antonio took hold of his wrists and pushed him back. "Not now."

"Why?" Romano asked, afraid he'd done something wrong.

Antonio face flushed. "I can't...not here..."

"Oh god..." Romano quickly crawled away from him. Of course Antonio wouldn't want to do it here in his father's house. The mere idea of it was entirely inappropriate. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..."

He just chuckled softly. "It's okay. I wanted you to be more affectionate, and I got it."

Romano couldn't believe that he'd made such a stupid, embarrassing mistake. Even though Antonio acted like it wasn't a big deal, he felt terrible. Shame rose from his chest, filling his throat and spreading heat over his face. He turned away from Antonio so he wouldn't see.

"Romano," Antonio said gently. He scooted closer to him, put a hand on his shoulder, and kissed his cheek. "You make me so happy. I love you."

The shame choked him. "Why?" he asked. "I've never done anything to make you love me."

As discombobulated as were the circumstances that got them here, Antonio had always been consistent in their relationship. Romano had failed to appreciate that. He'd been concerned with his own feelings, demanding to be the most important thing in Antonio's life, forcing Antonio to take all responsibility without fully opening himself to being hurt by him. And Antonio loved him anyway.

There was so much pity in Antonio's eyes. "Do you really think you have such little value? Or that I could be so blind?"

Yes.

He sat on the mattress and hung his head in silence.

"Romano...tell me you love me again?"

"I love you," Romano said without delay. He would never be able to say it enough times to make up for himself. "Of course I love you. How could I not? You're fucking perfect."

Antonio's expression fell. "I'm not perfect. I'm just a person."

That reaction caught Romano off guard, and he wasn't sure what to say. He knew that no one could possibly be perfect, but somehow, he'd always felt like Antonio was.

"Do I have to be perfect for you to love me?"

"What? No," he asserted. "No, of course not. That's not what I meant."

Antonio grew quiet after that. He was upset, and Romano knew it was his fault. He'd spent so much time avoiding the question of whether or not he loved Antonio that now Antonio probably didn't believe him when he said it. They went to bed soon after, and Antonio moved close to him, wrapped his arms around him, and buried his face in his neck. He stayed very still that night for the most part, but every once in a while, his shoulders would shake, silently, as if he was afraid to make a sound.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter beta read by 00Fangirl and scarletnight72.

There were a few small farms near the house they stayed in. They passed one to the west of them one day before they went into the city as the workers were harvesting Christmas melons. In Murcia, they were able to see much of the old part of the town, where many historic buildings and market squares still stood. All the old buildings strangely fascinated Antonio. He wanted to go into nearly every baroque cathedral they passed by, and that was simply too many cathedrals.

Early on their fifth morning there, when it was still dark and cool outside, they were back at the airport/military base. They each bought small breakfast sandwiches, though it was too early to stomach anything, and huddled by the gate and waited for their plane to board.

Romano was glad when they arrived back home from Spain. The trip had been enjoyable, but familiar things were more comfortable. The early flight was disorienting; he fell asleep in the main bedroom, exhausted, and woke up not knowing what day or time it was. Still, the weekend away had released some tension. Feliciano was eating quickly in the kitchen, and Ludwig came out dressed and looking ready to go somewhere. Antonio and Gilbert were sitting beside each other on the couch and finishing breakfast. Though they were all here together, it wasn't as stifling as it had been before.

"Morning," Antonio said brightly when Romano came out of the bedroom.

Romano waved him off with a grunt. Anything else was too much effort when he'd just gotten out of bed.

Antonio was happy that morning. Romano was usually of the opinion that Antonio was _too_ happy in the mornings, but he'd been noticing it more lately since they'd been in Spain. The morning after he'd silently cried to himself while they slept beside each other in the guest bed, he'd returned to smiling and talking like things were normal. Romano refrained from bringing it up to prevent things from becoming awkward, but Antonio seemed to be operating on a default mode.

Everyone had their own default mode, Romano supposed. When life was going by effortlessly, or when things were too difficult to gather the effort to emote anything else, it was something to fall back on. Romano's usual persona was bitter and sullen. Compared to that, happy seemed to be the better option.

He brought a cup of coffee from the kitchen and returned to the living room just as Gilbert was in the middle of talking. "So," he said to Antonio, "the school's assigned me two classes for this coming term, just to start out with. I thought I would need to get a teaching license when Ludwig first suggested it, but not for colleges, apparently. So—"

"Wait," Romano interjected. He'd been half listening to Gilbert's words and was taking some time to register them. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Gilbert got a job teaching at the college, so he won't be working in the café much longer," Antonio said.

This was news to Romano. "When did this happen?"

"They called me a few days ago," Gilbert said.

"…Oh." He went quiet and focused on swallowing his coffee, but it wasn't going down so easily anymore.

Feliciano left before he was late for class, and Ludwig disappeared soon after. Gilbert retreated to the back of the apartment as Antonio started cleaning up the kitchen. Romano helped him once he'd finished his coffee. He wanted to distract himself, and knowing now that Gilbert would be leaving the café sooner than he'd expected made him think that it was best to talk to Antonio about the changes happening in his own life as soon as possible.

He'd been meaning to talk to Antonio about his cooking class for a while, but with everything else that had been going on it had escaped his mind. He wanted to give Antonio enough time to prepare, to find someone else to help him in the shop, so he wasted no time. He began moving the dirty pans to the sink and started, "What Gilbert said reminded me. I won't be able to work certain shifts in the shop when classes start again."

Antonio stopped scrubbing the cooktop and looked at him sharply. "Why not?"

"Uh," Romano said, surprised by the reaction. "I signed up for a cooking class."

"Why'd you do that? You already know how to cook." A bemused smile appeared on his face. He thought Romano was being silly. When Romano started to explain his plans to build a career for himself, he stopped smiling.

This wasn't what Romano had expected. Even when he'd dropped out of school and did nothing but stay inside the apartment, Antonio had only ever been encouraging of him. When Romano had felt like his life was going nowhere and he was never going to do anything for himself, Antonio had offered him a job in the café. He had done it to help him and Romano had accepted that, but he'd never planned on working in the café for very long. Even three years had been more than he'd thought he'd take to examine his life and move forward towards what he really wanted. He'd gotten complacent; but now he discovered that in that time Antonio had stopped expecting him to leave.

"You don't like working for me?" he asked.

"It's not that," Romano said, worried that he'd hurt Antonio's feelings. "I just thought I might like to go out and try other things."

"You hate trying new things."

That irritated Romano. "I can change my fucking mind, can't I?"

His tone surprised Antonio. He drew back. "Okay," he said. "If that's something you want to do."

He didn't look at all happy about it, but he said nothing. Even when his default mode failed and it was obvious that he wasn't happy, he refused to say anything. Romano realized that this was a problem.

Antonio talked all the time, but he never really said anything. He avoided talking too much about himself, and he especially never wanted to start a disagreement. In ways that Romano had never fully understood before, Antonio was reserved and cautious, even when he acted bubbly and nonchalant. He'd rather take everything upon himself than risk inconveniencing someone else. He never cared if Romano shirked responsibility, in work or in their relationship. He was much too willing to take care of everything by himself. He might have even felt that it was necessary.

As a couple, they should be able to talk about anything and come to a decision that satisfied them both, but they'd become so used to the way things were that anything that upset that came off as a potential threat. Romano tried not to immediately panic and think of a way to work through this. Maybe all they needed was a break. If they could step back and analyze the situation, think about themselves and their relationship independently, maybe they could be stronger together.

"Do you ever think..." Romano said slowly. He couldn't think of how to say this in a way that sounded _good_. He already knew that Antonio wasn't going to like this idea, but he couldn't just stay silent about this anymore. "Do you ever think maybe we spend too much time together?"

"I like spending time with you," Antonio said defensively.

"I like spending time with you, too. But…don't you think it might not be the best thing all the time?"

Antonio looked hurt. This wasn't going well. "Are you getting sick of me?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying. I just think...maybe...you've gotten to where you like taking care of me too much."

"You don't like that I try to take care of you?" he asked, confused.

"Of course I like it _sometimes_ , but..." He loved it when someone showed that they cared for him; while words were often easier to understand, actions were easier to believe. He liked the feeling of having someone to rely on, because he often felt like he wasn't adequately prepared to maintain his own well-being on his own. Still, "You can't baby me all the time."

His brow scrunched and his frown deepened. "I don't do that."

"You _do_ ," Romano said pointedly. "You overlook all the shitty things I do and don't make me take responsibility for anything. You can't keep doing that."

"I really can't think of anything you do that bothers me that much." Antonio shrugged. "Besides, it's only natural to want to take care of those you love, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well, maybe I want to take care of you every once in a while!"

He managed a small smile and insisted, "We take care of each other."

"It's not exactly equal when you want me to depend on you, but you won't even be honest with me about how you're really feeling."

He leaned back as if Romano had shoved him. His face became stern and his eyes darkened. "That's not fair. You're not honest with me all the time, either."

His words pierced straight through Romano, and couldn't stop himself from shouting. "I _know_ that! I'm trying! And...dammit, I wasn't looking to argue about this."

"I'm sorry, I just— _"_

He groaned in annoyance. "Will you _stop_ saying sorry all the time?! Just saying sorry doesn't fix anything!"

"I know that saying sorry doesn't fix it," he said in a harsh voice. "I just wanted you to know I'm sorry."

The conversation came to a standstill with Romano glaring at Antonio while unable to find anything else to say and Antonio studying him with a shadowy aura. Concern was ingrained in the lines of his face.

After a cautious moment, Antonio sighed and said, "Okay. I didn't know you felt that way. But now I do, and we can work on it."

Romano was beginning to feel like his relationship with Antonio was like a house infested with termites. There was a present threat that could very well end in disaster, but they'd never realized the full extent of the damage. They'd ignored the signs, and now the problem was so large and all-consuming that Romano didn't know how well they could fix it.

His eyes fell to the floor. "We have a lot of problems we have to work on, don't we?"

Antonio visibly flinched when he said that, and Romano was reminded that he wasn't the only one who ever thought that they might not be as important to someone else as that person was to them.

"Every relationship has problems," he said in a small voice. "We may have to work through more than some other couples, but we can do it."

"How are you so sure?" Romano asked.

"I just can't help but think, with everything that's happened, that we're supposed to be together."

Romano didn't believe in fate or soulmates. He didn't know how much he and Antonio were _"supposed to be together"._ What he did know was that he wanted to be with Antonio, and Antonio wanted to be with him. That was all that mattered.

Antonio went back to scrubbing the cooktop. Romano stared into the sink, contemplating washing the dishes. He couldn't focus on cleaning anymore. His head hurt and his stomach felt sick with worry. He hated fighting with Antonio, especially when things ended up like this, where they hadn't really resolved anything.

"Romano," Antonio said, "I know that you think I should talk about more personal things with you, but to be honest, there's a lot of things that I don't want to talk about, with anyone. I'd rather just keep them to myself."

Romano looked up to see him smiling again.

"Besides," he went on, "we're so close to each other, I feel like it doesn't even matter. I feel like you already know everything anyway."

Romano stayed silently, shocked beyond words. Antonio wanted him to be more open and honest, but he wasn't willing to open himself up in return.

Antonio finished scrubbing and wiped at his forehead with the back of his hand. "Well. That's all done." He looked around the kitchen with satisfaction before turning to Romano. "I'm going to go to the store in a minute. I'm just going to get some things to make dinner tonight. Is there anything you want?"

* * *

 

_Splat._

"Shit."

_Clang._

"Dammit!"

 _Crash_.

"MOTHER FUCK!"

Gilbert's voice rang from the hallway. "What _in the world_ is going on in there?!"

All the racket that Romano was making as he was trying to cook drew Gilbert out from the bedroom. He came into the kitchen quite irritated, surveyed the mess of pots and pans and spills around him, and stared down at Romano. Romano didn't care. Antonio had left, and he'd started throwing things together in the hopes that cooking something would make him feel better. It usually did. But now, the one thing that he did well was suffering from all the stress and anger building up inside him, and he couldn't talk about it. Not with Gilbert.

"Just leave me alone!" he yelled, flashing his most ferocious glare.

Gilbert shot a dirty look right back at him. "The hell is wrong with you?"

Where to even begin. He had an incredible boyfriend that he'd obsessed over for so long, but who he felt was further from him now than he'd been before they were dating. He wanted so badly for Antonio to love him, but he was afraid with the way things were going that they weren't going to last. He was finally putting effort into making things work out between them, and yet it only seemed to make things worse.

He threw his hands up with a cry of defeat. "My life is a mass of contradictions! _That's_ what's wrong with me!"

Gilbert stared from the broken plates on the floor, to the half-finished sauce dripping from the counter, to the steam rising off the burning vegetables still on the stove. He pursed his lips as he absorbed the state of the kitchen, and then he finally looked back at Romano. "You're a little crazy, aren't you?"

"I'm _not_ crazy, I just—"

He cut himself off before he said anything he'd regret. He couldn't talk to Gilbert about this. He couldn't vent to Feliciano later, either, because he wouldn't understand. And he couldn't talk to Antonio, the one who he'd always been able to rely on, because it was fucking _about_ him. He had no one.

He let out a long, shaky breath, trying not to break out in tears. "Just go away and let me be miserable."

Gilbert put his hands on his hips. "Look, I get it. Sometimes you need to be by yourself for a little while. But sometimes you need someone too. So, tell me honestly, what do you want?"

"There's nothing you can do to help."

"I can sure as hell try, can't I?"

Gilbert still did not budge. His stare remained pointed, but sympathetic. A heavy weight pushed down on Romano's chest, and he was suddenly exhausted from all the uncertainty in his relationship and the inconsistency of his feelings.

He teetered unsteadily before he finally let his head fall against Gilbert's chest. Gilbert's hands came up to his shoulders and hovered, refraining from touching him. "Romano...?"

"Just hug me, dammit, and don't ask questions."

He sighed. After a silent moment, he slowly wrapped his arms around Romano.

They stayed like that for a while, and Romano was surprised by how comfortable he was like this. He enjoyed the strength and warmth that he felt in the hug. His eyes lifted towards Gilbert's face, his lips, and his mind strayed toward the thought of how easy it would be to tilt his head up and kiss him.

Fear and guilt clenched Romano's chest. He pulled away from Gilbert and staggered backward till he bumped into the counter. Across the kitchen, their wide eyes locked on each other.

There were plenty of things that could be said about Romano that made him a terrible boyfriend. He just never thought unfaithfulness might be one of them.

"I shouldn't have done that," he said, less for Gilbert and more to chastise himself. "God, I…I'm just…I'm sorry."

Before Gilbert had the chance to say a word, Romano escaped to the main bedroom. He closed and locked the door behind him. He threw himself onto the bed, diving under the covers, burying his face in the pillows.

Life would be so much easier if he could shut off his emotions, or if he could somehow prevent anyone else from caring about him. He would have thought he'd done enough to ensure that already just by being himself, but here he was. In a relationship that he was beginning to have uncertainties in, discontent and fearful of wandering.

He didn't plan to leave the room until Antonio returned. There must be something wrong with him if he was thinking about someone else when he was in a relationship, and he didn't need to put himself in any more precarious situations. He and Gilbert had never been alone in the apartment before, and thinking what could easily happen in this scenario made him nervous. Antonio was only going to the store to buy things for dinner, so he shouldn't be long. But almost an hour later, he still wasn't back.

When he first heard Gilbert yelling from the living room, he didn't move. He wondered what was happening, it sounded like Gilbert was angry, but he told himself to ignore it.

The shouting continued.

It was hard to distinguish words. The sound didn't carry well, and the speech was lazy and slurred. Gilbert must have been drinking.

When he started hearing glass clanking and things being knocked over, Romano became worried enough that he got up to check and make sure Gilbert wasn't doing anything stupid. He stopped just before entering the living room, staying out of Gilbert's line of sight. A few bottles of beer were on the coffee table, half of them knocked over. Gilbert was on the edge of the couch, picking up his phone from the floor. He fumbled with unlocking it and tapping the screen before holding it to his ear, waiting as it rang.

"Hey..." he said when someone answered. "What? I told you I would call and check up whenever I could...No, I'm not in a ditch somewhere, and no, I'm not drunk..." He snorted. "Okay, I lied about the second part."

Romano lingered in the hallway and listened in, worried that Gilbert would do something stupid. It didn't matter who it was, drunk dialing anyone was never a good idea. And anyway, Romano couldn't think of who he might be calling now, of all times. He didn't know of anyone that he was particularly close to aside from aside from the others in the apartment, or maybe his family. It was very possible that he was calling his parents, but Romano stayed to know for sure. The uncertainty would nag at him to no end.

Gilbert released a groan at something the person on the phone said. "Stop talking like you're my mother. It's weird and I don't like it."

Not his parents, then.

"Hey...hey...Roddy, shut up for a minute, damn. How's Liz?" Gilbert was quiet for a long time, occasionally grunting to acknowledge the muffled voice on the other end of the conversation. "That's good. I'm glad she's doing better. Hey, listen, I'm gonna be getting some more money soon, so I'm going to start paying you back. I don't care if you didn't ask for it, I'm not going to be in debt to you, so you're going to take the money and shut up about it."

It was that instant that Romano realized what must be going on. He didn't know who Roddy could be, but there was no way to mistake Liz as anyone other than Elizabeth, Gilbert's ex-girlfriend. A nervous feeling crept up inside Romano after he realized that. He would have turned away then if it didn't sound as if Gilbert was tired at that point and wanting to end the call.

"Yeah...that's it...No. It's late. I'll talk to her later...Yeah."

He hung up after that and dropped his phone on the couch, sinking down with a sigh and laying his head back. It was almost as if Romano wasn't in the room, wasn't a part of this scene, but was only watching it unfold through a filter in some place where Gilbert couldn't see him. He finally stepped into the room and walked directly to the couch to look down at Gilbert with an unforgiving stare. "This is a sad sight," he said. "Are you trying to drink yourself to death?"

"Pfft. I'm not _that_ drunk."

"Fucking liar."

"Hey," Gilbert snapped. "You're not the only one who gets to be miserable from time to time." He lifted the bottle to his lips, splashing what little remained of its contents around in the bottom. He paused for contemplation before taking another drink while Romano busied himself with deciding what to do in this pitiful situation. "'Tonio loves you a lot."

"I know."

"An'...you love 'Tonio."

Romano nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"An' Ludwig and Feli love each other!" He raised his bottle to no one in particular. "An' I, Gilbert Berrlshmint, am a free man surrounded by couples! Hah...being alone is awesome."

Romano, fearing Gilbert might drown himself with the way he was chugging that beer, snatched it from him.

" _Noooooo!_ " Gilbert whined, flailing a clumsy arm around trying to take the bottle back. Romano kept it out of his reach, and Gilbert eventually gave up and fell back into the couch sullenly. He tucked his knees under his chin and crossed his arms over the top of them.

"Come on," Romano said, patting his arm. "Go to bed."

Gilbert swatted at his hand. "I don' wanna go in there. Your bed smells like you. D'ya know how fuckin' annoying that is? Tryin' ta sleep an' all I can think about is... _'smells nice'_..." He glared up at Romano. "You smell nice an' it pisses me off."

"Um." He blinked. "Sorry?"

He waved Romano away with a dismissive grunt and settled further into the cushions. Seeing as it was going to take a while to convince him to go to sleep, Romano sat on the arm of the couch right beside him.

"I should'a known 'Tonio was in love with you," Gilbert said softly. "The times we'd talk and catch up, he wouldn't shaddup about you. Probably how I first started to like you. Vi...vicarosly." He put up a hand as if to stop Romano before he interrupted. "I know you think I'm an idiot for sayin' that, but it's true. Course, when I actually met you..."

He let his sentence trail off with a dopey grin and a snort, remembering when he'd first come to stay with them. Romano thought back, too. It was strange just how drastically his feelings towards Gilbert had changed over time.

"But..." Gilbert went on, "Even then, I thought there had to be more to you. I wanted to see what he saw when he looked at you."

There was a sharp pang in Romano's heart. "I don't know what Antonio could have possibly told you about me to make you feel like that."

"You're really smart," Gilbert said, looking up at him with glazed eyes. "That's what he told me. You think a lot. Probably too much. And you care so much, even if you don' or can' always show it. You can really be brilliant when you put your mind towards something."

Gilbert was drunk and didn't even know what he was saying, but Romano couldn't pretend to be unaffected. No one had ever told him this before. Tears welled in his eyes.

"He said he's never met someone who can say so much with just a look and the word _'what?'_ , an' that he loves how sassy and sarcastic you are, an' that even when you go too far with the insults you look so embarrassed and apologetic that it's too fuckin' cute for me to stay mad at you. He told me how beautiful your eyes and your smile are. An' how you look really sexy in that shirt."

Romano was now laughing through the blur of tears at just how ridiculous this was getting. "Antonio didn't say any of that, did he?"

Gilbert insisted that Antonio had said at least half of those things at some point or other, though he admitted that he might have taken some liberties and added a few things of his own. He grew quiet for a bit and let his head fall against the couch cushions. His eyes were barely open.

"I really wanna kiss you," he said with a sigh. "An' I can't...an' it sucks..."

Romano turned his face away as the heat rose in his cheeks. His eyes fell to the beer that he'd confiscated from Gilbert and he took a quick swig. He didn't care for the stuff, but in this moment, he was grateful for it.

"Which is weirder:" he asked with the strength that the alcohol gave him. "Being in love with your brother's old babysitter and your former guardian, who you occasionally had casual sex with for two months, or being in love with your brother's boyfriend's brother after a week-long, whirlwind romance that probably meant nothing?"

Gilbert shrugged lazily. "Neither one's illegal."

"That's not what I asked."

"Ehh..." he drawled. "When you say it like that, they both sound pretty weird. The last one less so. Unless the brother's boyfriend's brother knows about the former relationship, then that might put 'im off a little."

Romano's heart sank, but it wasn't like he'd expected much else. He took a few more gulps of beer. It burned his nostrils and throat going down. He set the bottle on the low table in front of him and relaxed against the arm of the couch. "I don't think I'm capable of having normal relationships."

"Nobody's perfect," Gilbert said. "But normal would be nice for a change."

If Romano didn't get him to bed soon he was going to pass out on the couch and be very unpleasant in the morning. When he tried to convince Gilbert this time that he needed to go to sleep Gilbert conceded. He thought he could get Romano to carry him to the room, which Romano refused to do, causing Gilbert to complain along the way. It was half stumbling and half dragging Gilbert as the they made it into Romano's room.

"You're fucking heavy," Romano groaned and dropped Gilbert on the mattress. Gilbert pawed at the comforter to wrap himself in it. Romano stood by as he wadded up the covers, barely pulling them over his shoulders and nothing else, and he wondered if he should help.

"For the record," Gilbert muttered as he snuggled against the pillow, "that week-long, whirlwind romance meant something."


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by 00Fangirl.

"Romano," Antonio said as he kept his eyes on the road before them. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"You're awfully quiet. What are you thinking about?"

They'd had this same conversation, if it could be called that, probably every day for the past week. Romano wondered if there was anything new he could say at this point.

This may have been the first time they were having it in front of someone else. Feli was riding with them to Gilbert and Ludwig's apartment, but he was in the back seat staring out the window and didn't seem to be paying much attention to anything.

"If there's something bothering you," Antonio said, "I want you to talk to me about it. I want you to know that you can talk to me about anything."

That simply wasn't true. If Antonio couldn't talk to him about things, he didn't get to say that. They endured the rest of the car ride in silence.

After putting down a deposit, Gilbert and Ludwig were finally allowed to move into their new apartment. They'd finished transporting their belongings, and all that was left to do was unpack. The front door was wide open for Romano, Antonio, and Feliciano to enter and find the brothers bent over boxes and sorting through the contents.

"Wow," Feli marveled, looking around. "You guys have made a lot of progress."

They'd found an already furnished apartment, which did a lot to make the place look homier from the start. There was a fluffed-up couch and coffee table in the living area, a small table and bar chair set next to the kitchenette, and beds ready for them when they moved in. Now the book case at the end of the living room was full, kitchenware lined the counters, and the remainder of the boxes were in piles according to which room they went to.

"Ludwig is a freaking slave driver," Gilbert grumbled under his breath.

"There's still a lot left to do," Ludwig said, headfirst in a box, "so talk while you work."

Antonio and Feli complied and sat by the closest boxes stacked outside the door to one of the bedrooms. Romano wandered with heavy steps to a different pile of boxes at the other side of the room.

It had taken a little bit for Antonio to realize that Romano was actively putting distance between them, but once he did it just made everything harder. Romano wasn't doing it because he wanted to get away from Antonio, or because he wanted to make him feel bad. He was only doing it because he needed time alone to himself to think things over, but it was becoming hard to focus on anything other than what a mess this all was. Worry cluttered his mind.

He didn't know how to make their relationship better. He'd thought if he just tried his best and proved himself to be a good boyfriend that everything would work itself out, but things were more complicated than that. He didn't think he could sit down and simply talk this out with Antonio. Their conversations lately just seemed to go in circles.

For the moment, he tried to not think about all of this and simply occupy himself with the menial task at hand. He rummaged through old card decks, a tin full of paper clips, a box of pencils, and an assortment of pocket-sized notebooks until his eyes fell on a black plastic case. He pulled it out and fiddled with the metal clasps until it popped open, revealing three long metal pipes, brassy and in need of polishing, laid in velvet.

"Huh. You do have a flute."

"There it is!" Gilbert exclaimed, jumping up from his seat. "I've been looking for it forever!"

He came over and took the pieces out of the case with care, holding it by his fingertips. Romano shifted to rest on his hip and watched the practiced way that he fit the ends together.

"To be honest," he said quietly, "I kind of thought that when you were talking about how well you _'play the flute'_ it was just a euphemism or something."

"Euphemism? For what?" Realization flashed in Gilbert's eyes. " _Ooohhh_. Well, not to brag, but—"

"Oh my _god_ ," Romano buried his face in his hands to hide the redness. "Shut up!"

He gave a small chuckle, looking back to his flute. With the way that he placed his fingers lightly over the holes like he was remembering the notes to a song, Romano couldn't help but smile.

"Play something," he said.

"Hm?"

"You wanted to play the flute for me, didn't you?"

"Romano," he chided, giving him a disapproving look, "you have a boyfriend."

"I meant the _literal_ flute, dumbass!"

"I know, I know," he laughed, "I'm just teasing you."

" _Guys._ "

Romano imagined that it could only have been Ludwig scolding them for getting distracted, but found that it was Antonio shooting them a heated stare. Romano turned away, looking down at his hands. Gilbert quietly shuffled back over to the box of clothes that he'd been going through before.

It took the five of them a few hours to break down all the boxes and get everything sorted and mostly put away. The kitchenware was all that remained once they decided to take a break. Ludwig said that he and Gilbert could finish up what was left and thanked the three for everything they'd done. "If there's anything we can ever do to pay you back."

"Don't worry about it," Antonio said earnestly. He could never keep track of favors.

The three of them left the apartment and went back to the car. Antonio buckled himself into the driver's seat with a fresh, cheery disposition.

"I'm going to miss them living with us. It was fun. But I'm glad they found a nice apartment for themselves. I'm sure Ludwig will be more comfortable now."

"Hey, what's this box doing back here?" Feli asked from the rear.

A wave of panic washed over Romano and he dived towards the backseat, grabbing the small box that he'd tried to conceal under the seat before his brother could look inside. It was just a plain cardboard box stuffed with blue tissue paper that he'd found in Antonio's closet. He hadn't been able to find any wrapping paper that wasn't too Christmas-y, which he'd decided was okay because then the presentation wasn't too flashy and building up to disappointment. The blue tissue paper was only to prevent the stupid thing from breaking, and for no other reason beyond that.

"Romano?" Antonio stared at the box in his hands.

"I forgot to do something," Romano said. "I'll be right back."

He shut the car door and hurried back up the stairs, box under his arm. Gilbert opened the door, his eyes widening when he saw Romano standing there. And just like that, meeting with his dazzling wine-colored eyes, Romano forgot everything he'd planned to say. He shoved the box in Gilbert's face.

"Here. Um. It's a, uh, housewarming gift, I guess?"

He took the box and stared at it. "What is it?"

"You like birds, so..." Romano shifted awkwardly as Gilbert began digging through the tissue paper. "I didn't get you an actual bird, because you'd probably kill it. If I didn't kill it first while I was keeping it for you. It's not that great of a gift. It's pretty stupid, actually. In fact, you know what? I change my mind. Give it back."

He tried to snatch the box, but Gilbert held it above his head out of reach, one hand outstretched to prevent assault. "No way are you taking this back! I haven't even finished opening it yet!"

Romano stiffened as Gilbert tore the last of the paper away and looked inside to find the small porcelain figurine of a yellow bird.

"I bought that in Spain. If you don't want it, just—"

"Are you kidding? I love it!" Gilbert seized Romano's hand and pulled him inside, leading him through the living room and into his bedroom, all the way to the window that overlooked the apartment gates. He placed the bird on the windowsill, facing it into the room. "There. Now I'll see it all the time."

His smile was so bright and warm that Romano could feel himself melting like a snowflake in the palm of his hands. It was enough to make fleeting moments and insignificant people feel special.

"I should get going...um…" Romano turned back towards the door. "Bye."

"Romano, wait."

He whirled back around. "Yeah?"

Gilbert looked at him fearfully, like once Romano walked out that door he would never see him again. "I forgot. Never mind."

"You still need to give me that flute concert," Romano reminded him.

A look of relief crossed his face and he smirked. "You'll be amazed."

"I better be."

He glided down the staircase, lighter than air and unable to keep the smile off his face. He joined Antonio and Feli again, hopping back into the passenger seat and securing his seat belt. He glanced towards Antonio, hands resting on his knees, staring off as if he didn't notice that Romano had returned and they could leave.

"Antonio? What's wrong?"

He remained lost in thought for another moment before shaking his head. He gripped the steering wheel and started the car, his mutter hardly audible alongside the humming engine as he said, "Nothing."

 

* * *

 

There was so much space in the apartment after Gilbert and Ludwig left. With them and all their boxes gone, everything was unusually quiet and empty. Romano tried to think if it had been that way before they'd lived there. It wasn't really a fair comparison.

Antonio came into the living room and sat next to Romano on the couch. The old cushions squeaked, and the sound seemed so loud. "This is the first time we've had the apartment to ourselves in a long time."

Romano gave a slight nod. Now that Gilbert and Ludwig had moved out and Feli was going back to school, they would have a lot of time to themselves again. Things could very easily fall into a similar pattern to how they were before. Except, Antonio and Romano were in a relationship. And yet, that little factor didn't really seem to make a difference overall. The quiet that pervaded the room intensified.

"Romano," Antonio said pleadingly, "look at me."

He turned his head slowly, already suspecting what was going to happen. Just as he thought, Antonio leaned in, stretching his arm over Romano's lap, and kissed him. His breath was hot against Romano's face and his teeth nipped at Romano's lower lip. Romano's entire body felt flushed when he pulled away.

Antonio's hand stroked through his hair. "Do you want to go ahead?"

He couldn't give him a definitive answer. He was confused, and he knew full well that sleeping with Antonio now was only going to make him more confused. He pursed his lips together and stared deep into Antonio's eyes, trying to communicate what he was feeling without having to tell him no.

Antonio's eyes lit as if he understood, and for a moment Romano was relieved. Then Antonio's hands were on the front of his jeans and he was bending down. Romano jolted.

"It's okay," Antonio said with a reassuring smile. "Just relax. Let me do this."

Romano clenched his fists and let out a shaky breath. "Okay."

Antonio eased onto his knees in front of him and Romano closed his eyes.

Before his first time with Antonio, Romano had never realized that sex could involve so much _talking_. He could always spit a few romantic or downright corny phrases, in Spanish or English, or try to maintain some back-and-forth. Romano had gotten used to it by now, and even often expected it. Of course, conversation was a little difficult when Antonio had Romano's dick in his mouth, and those were the moments that Romano's thoughts ran wild, half reveling in his boyfriend's touch and half lost in persistent distractions.

Antonio was the only person he'd ever done things like this with. He was the only _guy_ he'd ever wanted to do this with, barring an unexpected intrusion into his life, and it was difficult and painful to imagine himself leaving the first and only person he'd ever exposed so much of himself to. What was the possibility that, despite all the bullshit they'd gone through, this was enough for both of them?

He breathed heavily, raking his fingers through Antonio's hair. He started imagining a different scene, with a white-blond head between his legs and lustful, wine-colored eyes staring back at him. He arched his back and choked out a moan.

 _No_. _Not now_ , Romano scolded himself. This was the worst possible time to be thinking about him. He forced the image from his mind and pushed Antonio back off him.

Antonio knelt up, looking him over questioningly. "Is everything okay?"

"I just…I didn't want to come yet."

Antonio's expression remained unchanged. He continued, his attention jerky, hurried, and unfocused, which wasn't like him at all and made Romano wonder what was going through his head.

Very soon, all thoughts fell away as the pleasure overtook him. His hips lifted as the intensity gradually increased. Suddenly, Antonio sat up on his knees, one hand still between Romano's legs and the other gripping Romano's face and bringing him down for a rough kiss.

"Look at me," he breathed against Romano's lips. "Just me."

A final shudder ran through his body and drew the word from him. "Yes."

 

* * *

 

Romano dozed with his head against Antonio's shoulder, all his energy spent. Antonio's hand rested on his. "We've been together for almost two months now," he said quietly, his fingers gently stoking across his knuckles. "I know we went a little out of order with everything, so this may seem like a silly thing to ask, but after all we've gone through I think we should. So, I hope you'll say yes."

Romano raised his head slowly up slowly and stared at Antonio's face. He could hardly breathe.

"It would make me really happy...so, Romano..."

" _No!_ "

Romano pulled away and glared at him, desperately trying to glimpse what was going on inside his head. This couldn't be happening. Had Antonio officially lost his mind?

All that idiot could do was say was, "Um, you didn't let me finish."

"We barely started dating, and you want to fucking dive right in to something like that?!"

"Well," he scratched the side of his head, "like I said, we went a little out of order with things."

"Not _that_ out of order, moron!" He ran his fingers through his hair, gripping it at the roots. It made him look angry, he knew. He wasn't, really. He was trying to find something to do to steady his hands. They kept shaking. "I can't believe you! How could you think it would be okay to ask me something like that?!"

"I think you're overreacting," Antonio said. He threw his hands up defensively when Romano made like he was going to punch him. "I mean, I'm not sure if we're talking about the same thing! I was trying to ask you to go on a date with me!"

Romano stopped, eyes wide and unblinking. "A date?"

"Yeah. We seemed to sort of skip that part, so I thought we should go on an actual date for once. Sounds like fun, right?"

This time, Romano really did punch him.

" _Ow!_ "

"Dammit, I thought you were trying to _propose_ to me!"

Antonio rubbed the tender spot on his arm with a bit of a pout. "Why would I propose? We've only been dating for two months."

"That was _my_ point!"

"Anyway," he said flippantly, "if I was proposing, I'd do a better job than that. I'd do like..." He dropped down from the couch onto one knee, one hand placed over his heart and the other stretched out towards Romano in a theatrical pose. Grinning from ear to ear, he boisterously declared, "Marry me!"

Romano grabbed his arm and yanked him off the floor. "Get up!"

Under any other circumstances, the gesture would have only been mildly embarrassing. It may have even been sweet. Such as things were, Romano's head was spinning so fast that he was getting nauseous.

Antonio laughed it off. "Don't worry. I'm not going to do that for a while."

Romano did not miss the implication of that statement. He froze cold and stared at Antonio, who didn't seem to realize the seriousness of his own words. "Are you saying you want to marry me?"

"Well..." A blush colored his cheeks and he smiled shyly. "Someday? Yeah. Of course." Studying Romano's expression, he sobered in an instant. "Do you not want to marry me?"

"That's not…" He sighed and shook his head.

Romano, funny enough, wasn't against the idea of marriage. Quite the opposite. He loved the idea of lifelong companionship, and marriages were much less fragile than dating relationships if both parties were prepared for the commitment. And that was exactly the problem here.

There were a lot of kinks that they hadn't worked out, and Romano couldn't marry Antonio until they did and he felt secure. But if they continued their same passive-aggressive behavior towards each other, then nothing was going to change. And if they couldn't change, then what was the point of any of this?

"You can't expect me to answer that on the spot," was as much as Romano said on the matter. Antonio didn't press him further. To avoid the awkward silence that would inevitably follow, Romano stood up, went into the bathroom, and began fixing his hair in the mirror to signal that he was starting to get ready to leave. He called out from the open door, "Where do you want to go on this date?"

"I was thinking we could just do the classic dinner and wine."

Romano peered back into the living room. "We have dinner and wine together all the time. That's not special."

He shrugged. "It's special to me."

They spent twenty minutes browsing on their phones for a place they'd never been that caught their interest before they settled on a new Mediterranean place not far from their apartment. They walked the distance to a restaurant fancier than what they normally frequented, with dim lights, white tablecloths, and wide windows. The servers dressed in all black with waist aprons reaching past their knees. The lamps themselves looked like post-modern artwork dangling from the panel ceiling, flat metal strips overlapping and in an orb shaped twine. Romano took special notice of the _Now Hiring_ sign posted outside.

"What positions are you hiring?" he asked their waitress. He was disappointed to find out that they were only looking for servers and bussers.

Antonio asked for champagne, which was an unusual choice for them.

"I thought you wanted to drink wine," Romano said.

"I thought you said wine wasn't special enough," he replied.

Romano didn't catch it until the girl returned with the bottle and two glasses. Antonio was annoyed. His mouth curled to one side. When he spoke, his voice came out flat and tense.

"I still don't understand why you'd want to work for another restaurant," he said as he swirled the bubbling drink around in his hand. "It's much easier for you to work for me. And if you leave, I'm going to have to try to find someone else to replace you."

"You don't have to understand anything except that this is what I want to do. And I wish you'd just be fucking happy that I found something that I want to do with my life."

"You've been doing it for years now. I already knew you liked it."

"Yeah, but when I started I just saw it as temporary employment. I didn't think I wanted to make a career out of it until recently."

He seemed genuinely surprised. "Really? I always assumed you would just keep working with me."

" _Why_?" Romano asked.

His face turned red and he looked down, biting his lip. "I don't know," he said, sounding embarrassed. "I just did."

This was another thing that they probably should have had a conversation about at some point but never did. Romano had never told Antonio what his big plans for his life were, because he'd never known himself until recently. If they'd talked about it, he may have been able to arrive at this decision much sooner, but it was too late for that now.

Romano reflected on Antonio's words and began to see the image of them that he'd kept in his mind. Getting married and living in the apartment above their quaint little cafe together for the rest of their lives. It wasn't a bad picture. It was kind of romantic. It just wasn't what he wanted. Imagining trying to convince Antonio to see things from his perspective, he felt very tired.

While they believed they absolutely knew everything there was to know about each other, they'd developed certain expectations of one another that, Romano realized, weren't going to be met. Romano wasn't going to be content to stay and work in Antonio's café, avoiding real life and real decisions, and Antonio wasn't going to stop wishing that they'd go back to the way things had been. Romano realized for the first time just how much things had changed over such a short amount of time and just how impossible it was for things between them to stay the same. He tossed his head back and swallowed several large gulps of the champagne. It was slightly sweet and made his head dizzy. He didn't drink champagne often, and he probably wouldn't be able to look at the stuff for quite some time after this. Their first and last date.

"Roma?" Antonio asked, eyes wide. "What's wrong?"

"I have to say something now," Romano said as if he was coaxing himself, working up the nerve. "I have to force it out, or I'm afraid I won't ever say it."

His mouth stayed open, but the words stopped coming. He couldn't make himself say it.

"You want to break up with me, don't you?"

Romano sat back, not sure he heard correctly. Antonio maintained a straight face.

"I'm not as oblivious as you think I am," he said. "I can tell when something's bothering you. It sometimes takes me a while to figure out what, but I've kind of expected this."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"What was I supposed to say? I was hoping that we could work past it."

His body seemed to crumple inward. Romano felt his throat tighten with every word he tried to get out. "I don't think this relationship is good for either of us anymore."

"Do you love me?" Antonio asked.

"Yes," he answered. "Please don't think that I never really loved you, because I did."

His eyes glistened in the dim lighting. " _'Did'?_ "

"I...maybe I stopped. I don't know when or how." Romano almost wished he could ignore everything else and just be happily in love so that he didn't have to see that look on Antonio's face. "I'm so sorry. About everything. Are you...angry?"

"Am I angry?" He laughed feebly, staring down at the table. "I don't know. I'm not sure what I'm feeling right now, except...numb, I guess. Maybe…" His voice dropped down to barely above a whisper. "Maybe if I'd done things differently, it wouldn't have ended like this."

Romano shook his head. "None of this is your fault."

Suddenly, Antonio asked, "Do you like Gilbert?"

 _Dear merciful god_. He didn't want to talk about Gilbert. Not with Antonio. Not _now_ , of all times. "What?"

"The first time I got back from Spain I started noticing it," he said, his eyes darkening. "He had this way of looking at you that I didn't really care for. And I've been telling myself for a while that I haven't seen you look at him in the exact same way."

"Nothing happened," Romano said quickly. "I mean...nothing happened after you and I actually started dating. I mean— _dammit_." He clenched his hands into fists. "I swear I never cheated on you, and this isn't about him."

"What do you mean nothing happened after…" He let his voice trail off and sighed. "You know what? I don't want to know."

"I kissed him," Romano confessed, whether Antonio wanted to hear it or not. "When you were in Spain. And I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking about us as a couple, or how it would make you feel. I'm sorry. I'm a terrible person. It's my fault that things have gotten like this, but…" He choked, trying his very hardest not to cry. "We shouldn't be together anymore. There's just too much. Too many mistakes that we can't make up for anymore."

Antonio wore an expression that Romano had never seen before. It was rigid, cold, desperately trying to keep his fierce emotions contained. He looked somewhere close to either slapping him or falling to the floor and bawling. As he stood from the table, Romano started to think he'd made a mistake. He hadn't fully thought this through. Breaking up with Antonio wasn't the right decision. A fit of panic was urging him to jump out of his chair, stop Antonio from leaving, apologize again for saying some very stupid things, and beg him to forget that this had happened and take him back. At the same time, he felt the crushing weight of knowing there was nothing he could do to stop Antonio from walking out the door at this point, and how this all seemed dreadfully inevitable.

Romano didn't believe in luck, but if he did he would certainly believe that he had been cursed with just the shittiest kind. He'd nearly had something that everyone else in the world dreams of, but he wasn't able to give all of himself to Antonio from the beginning, he wasn't able to make him happy, and he hadn't noticed that he was losing Antonio until it was too late.

He stayed at the empty table for an immeasurable amount of time, feeling the numbness that Antonio had talked about setting in. The tears started flowing before he even realized that his body wanted to cry. He dropped money down for the champagne, and then he got up and left the restaurant before people started to stare.

He didn't know where he was going, but he walked, aimlessly, dragging his feet. The streets were cold and lonely, but it suited him, and he figured he could probably just keep walking throughout the night and not care. It was the preferred option when the only other one he had was to go back to the apartment.

He had no friends. Not ones that he'd made on his own outside of forced circumstances. He had no boyfriend. He had no job, no home. He couldn't keep living and working in the same place as Antonio anymore. He would have to leave, and then he would be entirely and utterly alone. _You careless, miserable idiot. In the span of a few short months you made every mistake possible to ensure you'd lose everything._

He sat on the curb when he got tired of walking, and cried till that exhausted him too. Then, as much as he was dreading it, there was only one thing to do.

The apartment was quiet when he finally made it back. He found Antonio in his room sitting on the edge of the bed with his head hanging over his knees. His chest weighed even heavier just seeing him there. He didn't notice when Romano stopped in the doorway. Romano rested his head against the door frame, barely able to look at him.

"Please," he said softly. "Don't hate me."

Antonio startled and looked up. His entire face was red, puffy, and wet from tears. "Romano, I don't hate you."

"This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Breaking up with you was something I didn't want to consider for the longest time, because...you were the only part of me I ever really liked. I didn't want to lose you."

"I don't want to lose you either." He managed a weak smile. "I want you to be happy. Even if it's not with me."

A silence fell between them, lingering longer than was comfortable.

"I don't know what happens now," Antonio confessed.

Romano didn't either, not entirely. There was only one thing he knew for sure. "I should move out."

Antonio looked up in alarm. "What?"

"It would be easier if we had a clean break from each other."

As much as Romano knew it would be better for them, there were obstacles. He wasn't sure if he could afford to live by himself. The only other option would be to convince Feli to move out with him, but then that would leave Antonio with no one.

"I don't want you to have to move out," Antonio said.

"I don't really want to either, but..."

"It's okay. We'll figure things out."

It didn't sit well with Romano to put the decision off like that, but he could at least be grateful to still have a place to sleep. It was going to take a long time for them to sort out all the repercussions from this. The time would come when he would have to move out, soon.

Antonio stood and went to him with open arms, offering a consoling hug. Romano flinched back from him. "If I'm going to stay, we have to set boundaries."

He looked sore about that, but said, "Okay."

"Don't hug me for a while. Or...just don't touch me at all. And we shouldn't be alone together. At least at the start."

"Okay..." he said again, softer. "I have one."

"What is it?"

He looked him straight in the eyes with a cold seriousness. "You can't date Gilbert. I don't know what I'd do if I saw you with him."

That took Romano by surprise—that had been the last thing on his mind—but he could understand the feeling. He wouldn't want Antonio to jump right into a new relationship, especially if it was with a close friend.

"Don't worry," Romano said somewhat stiffly. "It's not going to happen."


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT: I have an idea for a SpUK centered sequel for this story.
> 
> I started out liking Spamano and USUK when I first joined this fandom. I really don't care for either of those pairings anymore. And now I'm really into Prumano and SpUK. (Prussia and Romano can be together and Spain and England can be together, and everyone ends up happy. Except for America, I guess.) 
> 
> Part of the intention of the sequel would be to go further with Romano and Gilbert's relationship and sort out Romano and Antonio's relationship more, but I also feel bad for Antonio in this ending. Because, while I don't think anyone should feel like they need to be in a romantic relationship to be happy, his ending in this story does kind of suck. (I'm sorry.) And it's ridiculously hard to find SpUK fanfics that aren't all hate sex and rape. My story would have none of that.
> 
> It wouldn't be nearly as long as this fic. For what I have in mind, it shouldn't be more than ten chapters. Which means it wouldn't take as long as this fic to finish and shouldn't burden me too much. If anyone is interested in reading it, let me know!

Going through his first break-up at the age of twenty-two was something of an out-of-body experience for Romano. All the anger and depression and hopeless, strangled tears felt oddly familiar from how often he'd seen it happen to people not him. He knew exactly what to expect, but it didn't really feel like it was really happening. Not to  _him_. Which made processing all the suffering last that much longer.

In real life, everyone hid their emotions so no one could tell that weeks later they still weren't over their ex. Others seemed to bounce back so quickly when you couldn't see the full extent of what was going on underneath. After weeks of thinking and crying over what had happened, Romano still didn't feel any better.

This entire situation was so stupid. It was stupid that he and his best friend of so many years didn't even know how to have a conversation with each other anymore. That he had to miss Antonio when they still lived in the same goddamn apartment with each other. That their relationship dissolved to careful stares, like they were lonely, pining teenagers afraid to approach one another. But, even though Romano could fully acknowledge the ridiculousness of it all, he didn't know what he should do about it.

Forgetting about it was impossible while he saw Antonio every day. They could only limit their interaction so much. School started again, which had Romano attending his cooking class, while Antonio interviewed potential new employees to cover the extra shifts. Distraction was the next best thing Romano could think of, so when his brother asked him if he wanted to visit the art museum he didn't think twice.

With limited options for companionship now that he didn't have Antonio anymore, Romano had been spending more time with his little brother. It was beginning to make him bitter. He didn't mind going to museums when Feli was looking for inspiration for a new painting, and he didn't mind going out to eat or shop with him. The issue was that Feli didn't notice his own behavior when he was lovestruck. The way he so easily went into long tangents about Ludwig and whatever dumb thing he'd said or done the other day as if it was the most incredible and endearing thing ever. Romano listened tensely, staring into the middle distance without acknowledging a word, but it wasn't enough to get Feli to stop.

Room after white room of paintings that Romano hardly even stopped to look at anymore, and Feli wouldn't take the hint. Romano had done his best to simply bury everything, but he no longer had the strength. "Feli," he interrupted directly with an aggravated sigh. "I really don't care."

His brother stopped mid-sentence, and his face fell. "That's kind of mean."

Weariness quickly turned to spite. Romano's tone was icy enough to freeze a river. " _I'm_  mean? I broke up with Antonio two weeks ago, been listening to you go on and on about your stupid relationship since we got to this damn museum, but, oh,  _I'm_  the mean one?"

Feli's jaw slacked. "I...I'm sorry, I didn't think...I asked, and you said you were fine."

"Of course I'm not fine."

His brother regarded him with such pity. Romano's first instinct was to tell him to wipe that condescending look off his face, but he stopped himself. He didn't have anyone else to show him sympathy, and he really wanted to feel like  _some_ one cared that he felt like absolute shit.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Romano answered abruptly. He faced the portrait mounted on the wall directly next to them. A landscape, a tree, an overcast sky. He wasn't really looking. He waited for his brother to probe further, but he didn't. After a long pause, he managed to say in a barely audible voice, "I loved him."

Feli nodded. "I know you did."

"It's hard living with him now, but he doesn't want me to move out."

"He doesn't want to feel like he's losing you completely. He's afraid he won't ever see you again. That you won't come around if you move out."

Romano turned to his brother with a start. "Have you been talking to him about this?"

"He can't talk to you about it, so he talks to me."

"I wouldn't do that."

"That's what I said," Feli agreed. "I know this is difficult for you. I'm sorry. But everything will be okay."

He huffed. "Easy for you to say. How's your perfect relationship going again?"

"I don't know about perfect," Feli said. "Ludwig can be awkward, and sometimes he gets angry and I don't understand why. He's not the best at talking about feelings. I don't really like serious discussions, either. But there's also a point where it's necessary, I guess."

All of Romano's serious conversations with Antonio went around in circles, and in the end, they never got anywhere except maybe further away from each other. The more he thought about how frustrated he'd been while they were together, the more the regret he felt for breaking up with Antonio was replaced by regret for everything else. "I don't know whether I want to go back in time so that I didn't sleep with Antonio for two months before we dated, or if I want to never have dated him at all," he said.

"It was your first relationship," Feli said as if it explained everything. "You remember my first relationship?"

Romano thought back. "Catarina?"

"I'm pretty sure she was actually crazy," he said, a dark expression crossing his face. "But even then, I learned a lot from it. You learn things about yourself and how you are with other people when you're with someone. That helps you know what you like, what you're looking for, and how to do better next time."

 _Next time._  Those two words were the most hopeful, most frightening words that Romano could think of. He missed having someone to rely on and give him constant attention, but if all he had to look forward to in the end was cycles of loneliness and depression, he didn't even want to think about it. It was all just so goddamn stupid.

"Next time," he repeated bitterly. "Seems like someone should have come up with a better way to do this than fucking trial and error by now."

"Well, until someone does and revolutionizes society with it, try to be more positive," Feli said with a smile. "Let's start with this: What did you learn from dating Antonio?"

After a moment of deliberation, Romano said, "I think I hate sex."

Feliciano looked doubtful. He was sometimes more understanding than Romano gave him credit for.

If Romano really disliked sex, he wouldn't have let his libido corrupt a perfectly decent friendship. What he hated was that the physical aspect of relationships came easier to him than the emotional bit. He used to believe that being intimate with someone didn't have to involve love or affection at all and was, in fact, safer when it didn't. Trying so hard to keep himself from feeling love fully had only left him empty. The emptiness had made him resentful, and that was just another thing that ultimately had ruined the only decent relationship he'd ever had.

"Maybe you just haven't done it in the right way yet."

Romano scoffed at his virginal brother for trying to advise him on how to have sex. "Like you would know."

"Well," he laughed sheepishly, "let's not talk about that."

All the blood drained from Romano's face. "You didn't."

The thought made Romano want to scream. He could contain himself, thankfully, because they were in a quiet part of the museum and there were children who were probably on a class trip nearby. The thought was still there, though, drilling into his mind and poisoning it.

"Oh my g _od_ ," he groaned. "My brain...is this what dying feels like?"

"I don't really think you should be complaining," Feli said. "I had to listen to you and Antonio for months, and I— _"_

" _Nope_ , this discussion is over, we are  _not_  talking about this."

Feli's quiet laughter followed Romano as he hurried ahead to the next room, muttering curses just low enough to not bring attention.

 

* * *

 

The closer Romano stepped towards the open classroom, the more this seemed like a manifesting nightmare. There was a time where he'd stopped thinking of returning to school as a viable option. It had never been something he'd especially wanted to do. His body felt cold and sweaty at the same time. His mind looped through long repressed flashbacks that made him cringe. He took a few deep breaths, trying to outwardly appear calm as he walked through the door.

It was more of a kitchen than a traditional classroom. A few white tables each with three chairs stood in the middle of the room where the students were supposed to sit. Some were already there, facing the stainless-steel work table at the front of the room. The walls were all lined with more tables, as well as cupboards and sinks and appliances. There were metal racks like they had in the kitchen at Coffee Café along the back wall that held plastic buckets of cooking utensils, cutting boards, and other essential tools.

Romano took a seat at the empty table at the very back as more students began filing in. The professor walked briskly to the front of the classroom a moment later and asked everyone to gather around the island. He introduced himself as Professor Hochstettler and then asked the rest of the class to go around and say something about themselves as well.  _Oh god_ , Romano thought,  _here it comes_.

He hardly listened to the other students as they went around saying their piece. He thought hard about what he should say when it was his turn and repeated it like a mantra in his head.  _Hi. No. No hi. My name's Romano Vargas. Who the fuck cares about my last name. My name's Romano. I'm twenty-two. Christ, everyone else here is probably still a teenager…_

He didn't want to tell any of these people anything about himself, all he wanted to do was come to class, learn what he was supposed to, and then go back home.

The eyes of the professor and the other students came to rest on him.

"My name's Romano," he said. "I'm twenty-two. I took a break from school for a few years, but now I'm here. I want to be a chef."  _Now stop staring at me, you bastards._

The professor smiled. "That's great, Romano. Do you cook a lot at home?"

Romano froze, unprepared for conversation. "Um. Yeah."

He nodded, gaze lingering, making Romano worry that he might drag this out further, but then he turned to the next student. Romano glanced down at his hands, not surprised to find them shaking. He stuffed them in his pockets.

Once introductions were over with, Professor Hochstettler began going over kitchen safety, especially regarding knives, fire, and hot oil. Most of the rules were new to Romano. While Antonio had taught him a few things about how he liked things to operate in his kitchen, he hadn't been all that strict about company codes or safety measures beyond wearing non-slip shoes. But the rules were also a lot of common sense, too. Carry knives with the pointed end down and away from yourself and others. If something sharp or heavy falls, let it fall and deal with the mess after.

After that, they went over some basic cuts for fresh ingredients. Brunoise, mirepoix, paysanne, julienne, chiffonade. Though Romano had trouble remembering the names, he was already familiar with most of these. When it was time for the students to practice cutting themselves, it was most natural for him. He felt a swell of pride when the professor praised him for immediately showing that he had skill. His eyes darted around the room to gauge the reaction of the other students. A pretty blonde girl smiled at him from across the island, and he smiled back. Overall, he had to say it was a good day

 

* * *

 

Even though Gilbert and Ludwig's apartment in the city wasn't a great distance away, Romano saw Gilbert only once in the month that passed after breaking up with Antonio. They nearly collided outside the café, Romano just coming home from school and Gilbert hurriedly trying to leave.

Romano stared up at Gilbert's face, his mouth going dry. "Oh. Hi."

"Hi," Gilbert replied, looking off to the side. "I didn't know you got out of class this early." So, he'd been trying to avoid him. He must know by now that he'd broken up with Antonio. Romano wondered if Gilbert also knew about the promise that he'd made. "How…how is school, by the way?"

He shrugged. "It's fine. It's school. The people in my class are kind of annoying, but I just concentrate on doing what I need to do to pass."

Gilbert frowned a bit. "Is that it?"

"What?" Romano asked. "What's with that face?"

"Nothing. It's just, your brother isn't always at home. He goes to school, and he goes out with friends, and he has my brother."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, now you get to go back to school and meet new people. You could hang out with people who aren't your brother and Antonio."

"Why would I want to do that?" he asked with a snort.

"It was just a suggestion." He turned toward the street. "I just know how it gets..." He stopped for a moment, voice fading, and then looked back over his shoulder. "Maybe I'll see you at the school sometime."

"Not likely," Romano said. "I never go to the science building. It's on the other side of the campus."

Gilbert nodded slowly. "Right."

Then they said goodbye, and nothing else happened. And every day after that Romano hoped that Gilbert would come back.

He wanted to know that Gilbert still cared about him. When they'd bumped into each other outside the café, he'd wanted to push Gilbert up against the wall for a violent make-out session, but he understood such a fantasy would not be realized. What Romano really wished for, more than anything else, was to believe that he still had a chance of falling unapologetically in love with someone. But happy endings were a lie, and the ones where lovers run towards each other in slow motion and sweep each other up in a grand, unabashed kiss were the worst kind. No one was that bold and uninhibited. Especially not Romano.

 

* * *

 

Romano felt like he was walking on broken glass every minute he had to spend working in the café now, but he couldn't leave Antonio to work the shop by himself. Not until he'd found someone he could trust to replace him. So, they kept working together, though they hardly spoke in anything more than strained and necessarily short sentences. At night, Romano would finish his cleaning duties and rush upstairs to his room.

Romano went up to the apartment after work one evening while Antonio was still closing out the register to find a blond German in their living room—though, unfortunately, not the same blond German he'd been wanting to see.

"Oh," he said to Ludwig, who was sitting on the couch with his hands on his knees and feet on the floor. "It's you."

Ludwig gave a nod. "Hello, Romano."

"Um. Hi."

"How have you been?"

"Fine."

"That's good."

Jesus Christ, this was terrible. Despite sharing an apartment with each other for quite some time, Ludwig still acted overly polite, and Romano still felt awkward and resentful toward him.

"I'm just waiting for Feliciano, and then we'll get out of your way."

At least they had something close to a mutual understanding. "Okay, good," Romano said as he started to head to his room. Or maybe to Feli's room to tell him to hurry the hell up and take his potato of a boyfriend out of the apartment.

"Romano, there's something I wanted to ask you."

He paused. "What?"

"It's none of my business, and I don't like getting involved in whatever's going on between you two, but, well, it does seem ridiculous."

"What are you talking about?"

"Why are you ignoring Gilbert?"

It couldn't have been much more than a week since Romano had run into Gilbert outside the café, but outside of that Romano hadn't had any contact with him and hadn't made any effort to see or talk to him. Ever since that day, it had only gotten harder to try.

"You said it yourself. It's none of your business," Romano said. "But…how is he?" What a dumb question. "Never mind, don't answer that."

"He's fine," Ludwig said. "He misses you, I think."

"How do you know?"

"I don't. But he refuses to talk about you. I think that means he misses you." He shrugged. "Then again, I don't understand why he does half the things he does."

He really wanted to believe that Gilbert missed him, otherwise he would feel pathetic. More pathetic than he already did.

It was painful to see Feli run up and hug Ludwig. Another reminder of what he didn't have. But it was a little too late for the possibility of being with Gilbert, and a little too early to pretend he didn't still think about it. He just turned his eyes away and tried to ignore it.

Ludwig looked back to Romano just before he and Feli walked out the door and said, "I'll tell my brother that you said hello."

Romano might have thought that it was a considerate gesture, if he thought that it made any difference.

 

* * *

 

As time went on, Romano started to think that maybe he and Antonio had both taken each other for granted. For years it had seemed as if nothing they did could separate them from each other; they really were terrible at preparing for the future.

Romano arrived home from school late in the afternoon. As usual, he went around through the back door and up to the apartment hoping to go to his room and relax before considering something for dinner. He stepped into the living room to find Antonio on the couch watching TV and froze. "What are you doing up here?"

Antonio's eyes met his with deliberation. "Feli's downstairs till closing. It's not getting busy, so I decided to let myself off early."

"Oh." They couldn't be alone together. Antonio had been working all morning, so it wouldn't be to make him get up and leave. "I'll go..."

Romano didn't know where he was going to go, he only knew he couldn't stay. He wished it didn't have to be this way. He wished it wasn't so fucking difficult to mend their relationship and just be normal around each other again, but it wasn't that simple. Antonio didn't respond with anything more than a sad stare. Romano turned around and crossed to the door. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob.

"I'm glad it was you," he said softly.

"Huh?" Antonio said.

"I'm glad that all the embarrassing firsts and all the awkwardness and all the stupid, pointless drama was with you. Because I don't think I could have gone through all that with anyone else, and I know that they wouldn't still want me around and trying to still be my friend after everything. So…I can't regret all of it." He heard the creaking off the couch and Antonio's slow, careful steps towards him, but he couldn't bring himself to turn around and look at him. "The only thing I'll regret is if we end up not being able to be friends again."

"It's okay," Antonio said calmly. "I want us to be friends. I'd rather that than us just end up being nothing. If we both try, everything will work out."

Simple and optimistic, as usual. Romano wondered whose benefit that was for. He turned around to look Antonio in the face. The worry lines in his brow may soon become permanent. Romano looked down at his shoes and mumbled, "You can hug me, if you want."

Antonio gathered him up in his arms. For a fraction of a second, Romano worried that this was too intimate too soon. He felt the tension between them, but he also felt something an old and familiar warmth.

"You are so important to me," Antonio said. "I'm sorry about what I said before. I take it back."

"What?"

"When I said I didn't want you to date Gilbert. I told you I want you to be happy even if it's not with me, and I meant that. So, if you think Gilbert will make you happy, I can't prevent you from being with him."

"Oh," Romano said. "Um. Okay."

He supposed he should say thank you before he left, so he did. Even if he really didn't think Antonio's change of heart mattered.

One thing that Romano had discovered in his twenty-two years of life was that, despite everything, he still believed in love. That said, he stopped believing that it was a force powerful enough to overcome otherwise impossible obstacles a long time ago. That was a nice, convenient fantasy that had no practical moral for reality. The notion that love fails sometimes was probably a cynical one, but at least it was honest.

Romano left the apartment and walked through the street, past all the little shops, past the bar and the pet shop, past the park entrance. He came to another gate and followed down a gravel road ran through a constructed landscape of all similar trees and trimmed hedges, and rows and rows of stone markers. Some were obelisks, and some were shaped like crosses. Some had ornate statues that probably cost a fortune to erect. The one that Romano stopped at was small and plain.

He stood there and read the engraving of his grandfather's name over and over.

Romano wasn't one for talking to gravestones. There was no ghost or spirit that remained to listen to whatever he might have to say. All that was left was a gravestone, as if all anyone's life was leading up to was their name slapped on a rock in the middle of a field of other rocks, and the rest had meant nothing. Yet, that alone was comforting in a way. At least there was something to remind Romano that the moments of hurt and longing and loneliness were justified.

Sometimes he still had the urge to go up to people and scream, "The closest thing I ever had to a parent died when I was sixteen, so excuse me if I'm not exactly coping with life, give me a fucking break." But then again, maybe he was a little too old to be using that as an excuse. Maybe it was about time he started taking responsibility for himself.

The rain came unexpectedly from scattered clouds in a blue sky. Romano glared up from under his dripping bangs.  _Fuck you too, weather_.

The water inundated the ground and turned it to mud. Romano past the park again on his way back, and the rain started falling harder. The few people who remained outside scattered in the downpour. Romano sprinted down the road, hoping to find shelter in one of the shops.

He realized that he was taking the same way that he had the last time he'd been caught in a storm like this. It seemed like a long time ago now, but he still remembered the exhilaration, like nothing else could touch them, when Gilbert had taken his hand and had told him to run.

Gilbert's words from what felt like forever ago echoed in his mind. " _I have a little time."_ Their expiration date had probably past, so Romano didn't know why he was racing past all the doors along the street and heading in the direction of Gilbert's apartment. His heart pounded in time with his footsteps and urged him to move while his mind was still trying to understand what the fuck he was doing.

He didn't stop until after he'd reached the correct building and floor and saw the number of Gilbert's door. He banged on the wood several times and then stepped back. As he waited out there on the walkway, panic crept in. What if Gilbert wasn't home? Shit, what if Ludwig answered the door? Romano didn't have a plan beyond this point. What if the apartment was completely empty and he had to leave awkwardly, like a fucking idiot? What if Gilbert just didn't want to talk to him? He should have thought this through. Maybe he should escape now and save himself from the embarrassment. He staggered back, his mind filled with doubt.

Then, the door opened and Gilbert was standing before him. "Romano? What the hell?" He looked him up and down, bewildered. "You're soaking wet! What are you doing?!"

Romano's mind was spinning nervously. Gilbert stood there frozen, staring at Romano like he was insane. Maybe he was, but he rolled with it.

"I had to come. I needed to see you. I had to talk to you." He couldn't breathe. All the physical exertion and anxiety saw to that. How he rambled on, he couldn't fathom. "I know you probably don't want to talk to me, but I wanted to tell you that I like you. I really like you. And maybe things went really fast, and maybe things got fucked up, but maybe we're both just stupid and scared."

Given the circumstances, Romano wasn't nearly as scared as he thought he would be. He felt like he was floating. He laughed, which probably didn't help with the fact that Gilbert already thought he was unstable, but it was too late to stop now.

"I don't care! I think this could still work, and I'm willing to try if you are."

Gilbert was giving him nothing. His jaw was hanging open, and Romano had no idea what that meant. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, shivering, desperate for some response.

"I walked all the way here in a fucking downpour," he huffed. "The least you could do is hug me, you bastard."

When Gilbert still didn't budge, Romano scowled and flew at him, gripping him tightly. Gilbert recoiled with shriek. "Cold! Romano, you're getting me wet!"

"Shut up! I'm being romantic!"

He pried Romano off him and held his shoulders at arm's length. Gilbert's stony expression told Romano everything without him having to utter a word. This had been for nothing after all. His heart throbbed heavily in his chest and he took a step away.

"You don't want anything to do with me."

Gilbert pulled him back. "Hey, I didn't say that."

"It's all over your face."

He locked eyes with him, drawing his gaze back. "I feel like I might go crazy, but…Antonio…"

"I broke up with him a while ago, and he said himself that it's fine."

"I know you broke up. Ludwig told me. But, are you sure you want to do this? This could make things really complicated." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Even if Antonio said that it's fine, it's not that simple."

"I…" Romano swallowed the humiliation as his mind backpedaled. "Okay, yeah, it's too sudden…I just…I thought it was important to tell you that I  _do_  like you, and if I'm gonna date someone new…well…"

A smile spread its way across Gilbert's face.

"Don't get too excited," he deadpanned.

Gilbert laughed boisterously. "How can I not?"

Romano's face heated as he struggled with the words. "So…I don't really know what happens now."

"Well," Gilbert said. "If you want, we can make plans to hang out. And I guess we just see where things go."

Though Romano didn't much like the ambiguity of it all, he was glad that there was no pressure for the moment. "Okay," he said happily.

Gilbert lent Romano some clothes and a towel, allowing him the use of his room to change. Romano started to dry his hair while Gilbert made himself comfortable, laying on his side on the bed, and watched.

Romano raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you mind?"

"I said I would wait, and I will. I won't do anything until you're ready to take things further. I promise! I won't even touch you." Gilbert flashed a sly grin. "But touching and looking are two different things, aren't they?"

He turned away, embarrassed. "Pervert."

He began undoing buttons with clumsy hands, his fingers trembling from being cold and nervous. He kept his back turned to Gilbert. His drenched shirt peeled off his shoulders and fell to the floor with a very unsexy  _splat_.

This was ridiculous. He thought seriously about kicking Gilbert out, but when he glanced over his shoulder and saw how Gilbert gazed at him like he was the brightest thing in the room, he didn't mind so much if he stayed. He even gained a bit of confidence, swaying his hips a little as he slowly dragged his belt from his pant loops. Gilbert watched him closely, enraptured. "You're making it really hard for me to wait right now."

Romano smirked at him. "I bet I'm making a lot of things  _hard_  for you."

"That's kind of what  _I_  was implying, but—" His sentence cut off when Romano allowed his pants to fall to the floor and revealed himself in his boxers, soaked through and clinging tightly to his skin, leaving little room for imagination. "God damn." His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

"Oops, I dropped the towel."

"No, no, don't bend over _ngyaaaah!_ " Gilbert buried his face into a nearby pillow and screamed. "You're killing me!"

After Romano finished laughing at Gilbert's torment and then finished changing, Gilbert offered him a ride home since the weather wasn't dying down anytime soon. The rain pelted against the window pane and the wind began to whistle.

"I don't want to go home yet," Romano said. Feli wouldn't finish in the café for a few more hours, and he wanted to stay with Gilbert a little while longer.

"What do you want to do?" Gilbert asked. He stared out the window. "Today's not really a day for outdoor adventures."

Having just dried and changed into fresh clothes, Romano had to agree. He plopped down on Gilbert's couch. "I don't care."

"Pick something."

"I'm your guest. Entertain me."

"Ignoring the fact that you came here on your own and took me completely by surprise," he said, grinning, "I will kindly oblige. You asked for it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who has followed this story up till now. The response to this story on FF and here has been so overwhelmingly positive, and you have no idea how much your support encouraged me to finish it. Next is the epilogue!
> 
> Btw, I have a tumblr now (guiltipleasuresblog) and I'm lonely and need people to talk to and stuff, so feel free to drop by!
> 
> Thanks to 00Fangirl for beta reading again!


	18. Epilogue

They were halfway across the school parking lot to Gilbert’s car. Romano had waited after he’d gotten out of class so that they could leave together. Side by side with their arms swinging down naturally, their hands bumped against each other, and their fingers effortlessly intertwined.

"Do you think that the school minds that I'm dating a student?" Gilbert asked. 

"I'm not _your_ student, so it doesn't affect your job,” Romano said. “And anyway, you're only adjunct."

He saw no reason to worry about it. Their schedules kept them in separate buildings. They were never intimate with each other while still at the school. They were relaxed around each other within the professional realm. The parking lot didn’t count.

While they were on the subject, Romano asked, "How is work?"

Gilbert usually had some story to tell. Romano had already heard plenty about the rewards of shaping the young minds of the future, and how Gilbert, being adjunct, made scraps compared to the other professors. Recently, Gilbert had started to figure out just how difficult it was to avoid slamming his head against the wall when students were too lazy or stupid, and how tempting it was to steal office supplies from the other faculty out of spite. But today he seemed in a more carefree mood. He grinned and said, "Even if it's not against policy or anything, I bet dating a teacher must be pretty hot all by itself, huh?" 

He waggled his eyebrows. Romano snorted.

It was _kind of_ hot, but mostly conceptually, when Romano was imagining some ridiculous scenario he knew would never actually happen. "There's nothing hot about you drooling all over your students' papers because you fell asleep while grading.”

They reached the car at the very edge of the parking lot. Gilbert walked around to the driver’s side. Romano followed him, stopped him just before he opened the door, and held out his palm. Gilbert stared at him with a pronounced frown.

"Oh, no." He shook his head. "You're not driving. You Italians are maniacs on the road. You'll get us killed."

"That's racist, I will not."

"My car. I'm driving."

Romano placed a hand on his hip. "I'm not going to let you chauffeur me around forever. You're going to have to let me drive eventually."

His frown turned into a sullen pout. After a moment of staring at his keys as if he was saying his last goodbye, he dropped them into Romano’s waiting palm. They got into the car. Gilbert watched as Romano pushed the seat forward to reach the pedal and fiddled with the mirrors, a crease forming in his brow. His right hand immediately found the grab handle above his window as Romano started down the street.

The car was oddly silent. Romano had been expecting a bit of backseat driving, but Gilbert didn’t say a word. Only when Romano tried to turn and look at him did Gilbert tell him to watch the road.

Romano drove carefully, and when he couldn’t stand the silence, he decided to ask a question that he’d been meaning to bring up.

"Have you ever slept with a guy?"

"Yeah," Gilbert said, confusion in his voice. "I've dated guys before."

"I've only heard you mention Elizabeth, so I was just wondering."

"I've played for both teams. I'm universally irresistible. But clearly you already figured that out."

Romano rolled his eyes and said nothing. Most of the time Gilbert’s self-esteem was easy to dismiss.

Gilbert’s voice lowered. "You've only dated Antonio?"

He wasn't really asking, because he already knew the answer. Which made Romano wonder why he'd mention it at all. "Is that…weird?"

"No. Well, I felt a little weird about it at first, because Antonio is my friend. I sort of felt like I'd stolen you from him."

"You didn't _steal_ me. I broke up with him because we weren't working, and then I decided to date you. That's it."

"I wasn't one of the reasons you broke up, was I?"

Romano knew if he tried to look at Gilbert he would just tell him to keep his eyes on the road again. He wished he could better see his expression. The way this conversation was going was making him anxious. "Why are you asking this _now_?"

"I want to know."

Romano hesitated, but he couldn’t lie to him. "Maybe you were," he said carefully, "but there was a lot more to it than that."

"Huh," was Gilbert's succinct response.

"What?"

"I don't know. I just have mixed feelings about that. I'm happy that you liked me that much, but I also feel kind of guilty."

"What happened with me and Antonio wasn't your fault."

"I'm aware of that. But I can't help but wish things had gone a little differently, you know?" He fell silent.

The road blurred past as a whirring in Romano’s head kept him from focusing on anything else. This was what Gilbert meant when he said things might be complicated. Would this become a bigger issue later? Would they be able to work past this?  

No. Fuck this.

Romano clenched the steering wheel. Hardly stopping to check for cars that might be in his way, he veered hard to the right.

Gilbert braced himself against the seat, clutching the grab handle tighter. "What are you doing?!"

Romano stopped on the shoulder and drove the handbrake into park. Then he whirled around to face Gilbert. "Don't you _dare_ do this to me. Don't you _dare_ start second guessing me. That was between me and Antonio. It was _my_ decision. _I_ made it. I want to be with _you_."

“Romano, I wasn't—"

"Shut up, I'm not done yet," he snapped. "Antonio will always be part of my life, and he will always be special to me, but I'm not thinking about him when I'm with you, or comparing the two of you, or regretting anything. If you and I are going to work out, you're going to have to trust that. I don't love him that way anymore. I love _you_."

He reached over to hook his arm around Gilbert's neck and pulled him in for a firm kiss. Though unprepared, Gilbert presently yielded to the embrace.

When he was satisfied that he'd made his point, Romano sat back in the driver's seat and got the car moving again. Gilbert sat in shock for a few minutes, until at last he said, "That was the first time you've said you love me."

Romano shot him a look. "Is that all you got out of everything I just said?"

"No,” he answered with a smile. “But it was the most important."

Admittedly, that was a good answer.

Romano put the car back on the road, and a few minutes passed before Gilbert said, "Hey. Why did you ask me if I've ever had sex with a guy before?"

"Oh. I just wanted to make sure you were prepared for it."

His eyes popped open. "Prepared for what?"

"A surprise," Romano said. "Later."

"Later?” He sat forward, fidgeting like he could hardly contain himself. “Like, uh, when later?"

Romano laughed at him. It was hard not to when he was behaving like an overexcited puppy. Providing a distraction for him proved too easy. The rest of the drive continued without incident.

 

* * *

 

Before they’d decided to officially date, Romano and Gilbert had agreed that talking to Antonio was a must. No matter how unpleasant it would be. And damn was it unpleasant.

Antonio led them inside the apartment. Romano and Gilbert sat beside each other on the couch. Antonio dragged a chair over and sat in front of them. No one spoke. Mere seconds crawled at an unbearable pace. Gilbert stared down with a tight-lipped expression, his eyes meeting Antonio’s stony gaze only briefly before darting away. His distress was palpable. Romano took it upon himself to break the silence.

"Does anyone want some water?" he asked.

“No. I’m good,” Antonio said.

Gilbert quietly shook his head.

"Well…fuck, I want some water," Romano mumbled, standing up from the couch.

Once in the kitchen, he could relax. He massaged the stiffness from his shoulders and hoped that, maybe, with him out of the room those two would talk to each other. He sure fucking hoped so. If this didn’t work, he didn’t know what he was going to do. So far, there was no upfront animosity between Gilbert and Antonio, but this was a clear snag in their relationship.

It all started or ended here. Romano wanted both Gilbert and Antonio to remain in his life, but if they didn’t reconcile their friendship then that was it. One of them would leave, or everything else would just deteriorate.

Romano was filling up a glass with water from the faucet when he heard their voices coming from the living room. Gilbert was the first to speak.

"I'm in love with him," he said.

Romano turned off the faucet. He hardly allowed himself to breathe as he listened to the conversation.

"I believe you," Antonio said.

"You seem...” Gilbert laughed uneasily, “okay?"

"Should I not be okay?"

"I don't know. I expected you to be a little more hostile, I guess? I came here prepared for you to give me a talk about how if I break his heart you'll break my entire body."

"Hm," Antonio hummed thoughtfully. "I figured that went without saying."

"Oh," he responded in a higher than normal pitch. He cleared his throat. "I just want to make sure that you're actually okay with this and not just saying you are because you don't want us to feel bad."

"I'm not okay with this," Antonio admitted. "Not really. Not yet. But I will be. I told you two to go ahead. If you want to know if I resent you, I don't. I _can't_. I care about you both, and I don't want to make either of you feel guilty. I really do hope you and Romano will be happy together."

There wasn’t much else to say after that. They only stayed for a little while longer as a courtesy, until the room felt comfortable enough to leave. Romano let Gilbert out the door first, staying behind as he walked downstairs to the café.

Antonio stopped just behind. Once Gilbert had passed out of sight, Romano said, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," he said. "I kind of wanted to hit him the entire time."

"But you didn't."

He gave a non-committal shrug. "I guess that's something."

"Don't hate Gilbert because of me."

"I just have a lot of emotions I still need to sort through."

"You can still talk to me."

"No, I can't. Not like before." Romano wanted to believe that it wasn’t true, but Antonio was still tense, shaken by how his belief that Romano could only ever be with him had been wrong, and Romano didn't know how to help him move past that. He couldn't think of the right words, and whenever he tried to say anything Antonio would always stop him and tell him, "I'll be okay. We're still friends. Gilbert and I are still friends. I just need time."

 

* * *

 

Romano caught his breath between kisses. "Gil…we need to move."

"We could do that. Or..." Gilbert, ever obstinate, held Romano firmly to the wall right beside the front door of his apartment. He'd pounced on his boyfriend the moment they'd gotten inside. He'd said that he'd done his fair share of waiting and he was going to get his spastic little Italian into bed or _god help him_. "We could stay right here."

"We're not doing this against a wall."

"Why not?" Their bodies were flush and moving rhythmically against each other, everything that they'd been withholding for so long was building to intensity, and Gilbert acted like he couldn't separate from him now.

"Because," Romano said, "it's dangerous."

"Don't worry." He kissed along Romano's jawline and nipped at the curve of his neck. Romano could feel Gilbert smiling as a hand slid down his thigh and hoisted his leg up. "If you think you won't be able to stand, I'll support you."

Romano made a disgruntled noise that was lost in Gilbert's hair. He was _not_ going to let Gilbert dominate him, and he certainly wasn't going to be held off the ground.

They started to move across the living room at Romano's insistence while still connected at the mouth—Romano pushed against Gilbert, who walked backwards and pulled Romano along after him. Romano hoped that Gilbert was familiar with his new apartment well enough by now that they could manage this without breaking anything. It was somewhat disconcerting when Gilbert stopped suddenly after having bumped into something. Romano ran into him with a hollow thud.

"Oops, there's another wall there."

Gilbert's giggles tickled his lips and he grunted. "Be caref— _ahh!_ "

Their legs got tangled as they tried to maneuver through the hallway and Gilbert tumbled to the floor, taking Romano down with him. Gilbert made a gruff " _oof"_ sound, squashed underneath the weight, and then he lied still, defeated by gravity.

After briefly panicking and making sure that Gilbert hadn't split his dumb head open, Romano relaxed on top of his boyfriend's chest with a sigh. "Okay, forget the bedroom." His hands slid underneath Gilbert's shirt to touch his pale, beautiful skin. Gilbert took hold of his wrists.

"We're not having sex on the hardwood floor!" He tried to lift himself up, but that proved difficult to do with Romano pinning him down. "This is so uncomfortable!"

"Really?" Romano chuckled. He was situated perfectly between Gilbert's legs to be able to roll his hips forward and create friction. He reveled in the way Gilbert looked at him with those hooded eyes, biting his lip. "Cause I'm _very_ comfortable."

"Yeah, I bet you are."

Romano's teasing was making Gilbert more frustrated, and they really should get to the bedroom in case Ludwig came home unexpectedly. Romano let him up and Gilbert practically dragged him down the hall as their eager hands proceeded to rumple inconvenient clothing.

"Take off your shirt," Romano growled, fumbling with too many buttons while Gilbert was preoccupied with the belt and being of no help at all.

"Hold on!"

Romano gripped his collar and brought Gilbert closer to kiss him again **.** Romano had gotten beyond nerves and self-consciousness and he'd reached his limit. He was more than ready to take Gilbert and fuck him into the next world.

They passed the bathroom before they rounded the final corner on the way to the bed, and Gilbert seemed very excited by the idea of them having sex in the shower. "I already said I'm not doing it standing up," Romano said. "What makes you think adding a slippery floor to the equation would change my mind?"

"What? Sorry, I was imagining you naked and wet and then I didn't hear a single word you said."

Romano took hold of the back of Gilbert's head and pulled him down for another slow, deep kiss. "Don't imagine me. I'm right here."

Gilbert's hands roamed up and down Romano's back as they prolonged the kiss and fumbled their way to the bed. They quickly removed their shoes and socks before crawling onto the mattress. Romano sat on Gilbert's lap. Their mutual explorations sent pleasure coursing throughout their bodies. Gilbert's hands wandered lower and lower until they were gripping Romano's ass, kneading it, earning a small whimper.

They needed far less clothes, Romano decided. He finally got Gilbert's shirt off and tossed it aside. The belt was soon to follow, landing on the floor with a clank. They'd soon gotten rid of everything but their jeans. Gilbert leaned Romano onto his back to make their removal easier. The blood rushed to Romano's crotch as he watched Gilbert bend over so that his face was mere inches from that very spot. Gilbert's curled his fingers around the waistline. Romano's breath hitched and he wriggled his hips in anticipation. Suddenly, Gilbert chomped on the denim covering Romano's erection, and Romano jolted with a squeak.

"Don't use your teeth there!" Thankfully, Gilbert had just lightly pinched the sensitive instrument, but it was still unpleasant and not something Romano was looking forward to happening again. "I thought you were going to bite me!"

Gilbert chuckled. "I just might." The glint in his eyes was somehow charming and yet predatory at the same time.

"That's not sexy, that's terrifying."

"We'll see," he sang.

After he'd finished pulling Romano's pants and boxers off, he pressed his lips to the lower part of Romano's stomach and sucked at the soft flesh, never reaching too far downward. He nipped at the skin until it turned red, and then he licked his way towards Romano's navel. His tongue dragged across the puckered skin, dipping inside. Romano arched upwards and whimpered. "That feels weird."

"You love it."

He loved everything Gilbert was doing, he just wished he was doing it a little bit lower. But Gilbert went in the opposite direction of where Romano wanted him, trailing kisses up his abdomen, on his chest, till he reached his collarbone. Romano couldn't take the teasing. He seized Gilbert's hips and pulled them closer, admiring the smoothness of his skin, and how his boldness could make Gilbert's muscles jerk. Their noses brushed. Gilbert's breath was on his face, and his fingers raked through his hair. The soft brush of Gilbert's lips on his own shot through Romano like lighting. He moaned and tightened his grasp on Gilbert's hips.

At this point, he was breathless and anxious and desperate for more. Everything he was supposed to be. Gilbert smiled and cupped his face.

"Hey. You know I love you, right? I mean, I haven't actually said it, uh, properly, but..." He broke off, looking flushed.

His obvious nerves helped to calm Romano's some. "I know."

Then all dexterity left him, because Gilbert took off the last bit of his clothes and they were both naked and lying in bed next to each other and touching endlessly and, _shit_ , this was amazing. He kissed Gilbert's neck and pushed his hips forward. He wanted to give Gilbert the kind of pleasure that would make him never want to leave his bed.

"What do you like?" he whispered. He skimmed his palm over Gilbert's chest and down his abdomen all the way between his legs. Gilbert gasped. "I want to make you feel good, but I don't know what you like."

"I like you touching me. I don't care how." A warm hand wrapped around Romano's own painfully hard erection. "What do you want, babe?"

"I.." Romano's breathing quickened. "I want to touch you and, and, feel you...i-inside..."

Gilbert visibly swallowed. "Hold on."

He got off the bed and scuttled to his dresser. He returned with a single condom and a bottle of lube and sat them on the bed. Romano wondered when he’d gotten those, and how much he'd been anticipating this moment. Gilbert scooted close again and they resumed kissing, stroking, tasting, indulging in each other's presence. Neither of them rushed, wanting this to last as long as possible.

With one final, resounding shudder, they fell back beside one another. Gilbert's hand felt for Romano's and laced their fingers together. "How do you feel?"

"I feel..." He held his breath and waited for the old feeling of shame and regret to sink in, but it didn’t come. He released the air with a laugh.

"What?"

"Nothing," he said. "I feel fine."

"Just fine? You can admit how amazing that was."

It was 12:15 a.m.

“It’s getting late,” Romano said.

“You don’t have to leave.”

“Good.” He turned on his side and settled beneath the covers, still holding on to Gilbert’s hand. “I don’t want to leave.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOO! THAT'S IT! Hope you guys liked it! If you did, please review and favorite and all that good stuff!
> 
> Also, again, I made a tumblr a little while ago (guiltipleasuresblog), so feel free to drop in and say hi!
> 
> Thank you so much to 00Fangirl for sticking with me and beta-ing so many chapters! I really appreciate it!


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